The Neverending Road
by FashionableRaid
Summary: Emily/Ian Doyle Fic. Taken place after the season premier, although the beginning may seem weird, it will be explained. Ian returns, kidnapping Emily and Declan, determined to start over. The road to redemption is a neverending road, however...
1. Ghosts

A/N: This is my first Criminal Minds Fic, so bear with me. I just lovvve this pairing and think the storyline could have gone a lot farther so in my imagination it did! Yay! Lol enjoy. FYI spoilers for those who have not seen season six/7. And Doyle's Reappearance WILL be explained later just FYI….Oh and thoughts are all from Emily's POV for now, may switch to Ian's in later chapters. ALSO The first couple chapters may go a little fast, but only 'cause I wanna get to the juicy parts ))

A/N 2: Ok, in the deleted scene from "Lauren" Emily swears again she never saw Declan again, but he seemed very comfortable around her in the premier, so my guess is she was lying in order to diffuse Ian's rage a little bit. I don't know for sure, just my inkling. So in my fic, he knows Emily fairly well after he was relocated.

Warning: Language Angst, Trauma, Dark, NC17 in certain parts.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters…

Intro: Everything happened including the season seven premier, but everything is not as it appears…..

"_**Behind every man now alive stand 30 ghosts, for that is the ratio by which the dead outnumber the living."**_

_**ARTHUR C. CLARKE,**__**2001: A Space Odyssey**_

Emily Prentiss sat at her small kitchen bar inhaling a muffin, while trying to read the morning paper tapping her heels impatiently against the bar stool. Ever since the fiasco at the airport, she had felt it imperative Declan live with her from now on; transferring him to a private school in DC, and staying with Garcia when she had to leave on a case, or her mother, god forbid, if Garcia was called away as well.

"Declan, lets go. You're gonna be really late, hun. _And I don't want social services knocking on my door this soon for truancy of all things. _ She thought humorously to herself. She had never really pictured herself having kids, but she loved this one and for once she wasn't the lonely crazy cat lady either!

"Sorry Em," he said rushing in grabbing a muffin out of the basket. "I'm used to wearing a uniform everyday…I never had to decide what to wear!" He said, blue eyes twinkling. He seemed to be adjusting well to his new school, had made several friends already too. Emily smiled enviously at that. Being a daughter of a politician moving around so much had made her by defense a natural loner.

"Alright last one out to the car has to clean Sergio's litter box!" She said high fiving him and bolting to the door. Naturally he squeezed passed her through the door and down the stairs before she could even make it to the elevator.

When she finally made it to her parking spot, Declan was nowhere to be seen. Instant panic began to set in, her heart started racing. "Declan? Declan? De—" "Boo!" He cried jumping out from behind the bushy tree in the landscaping in front of her spot.

"Oh, god Declan, Don't do that ever again! I literally had a heart attack and called Homeland Security!" She said in exasperation. "I know you don't understand, but I already almost lost you once," She said hugging him, before tousling his hair. Becoming lost in thought as she empathized with how Ian felt the day he was arrested at the Tuscan Villa. The thought of losing this precious child must have nearly killed him. She winced at the memory, as her and Declan got into the car.

After dropping Declan off at his new school and promising to take him out for Chinese for dinner, she drove to the BAU HQ. They had no new cases so she had to file a lot of paperwork for just finished cases, some forms for Declan's school trips, etc. At around noon she went out to lunch with JJ and Garcia at an outdoor café. "Ohh Don't you just love these flowers!" Garcia squealed as they sat down at the little wicker table. On it sat some lovely blooming Freesia flowers. Emily froze mid-sit down glancing around. She didn't recognize anyone around, and all of the other tables have flowers of a similar color, so she dismissed the feeling of unease that made her nauseated, and commented on how lovely the décor was.

"So how is Declan doing at his new school?" JJ asked, after they'd ordered and their drinks had came.

"Great, yeah, he seems to really like it here. He already has tons of friends and tried out for basketball in the winter!" Emily said smiling like a proud parent would. "His grades didn't slip a smidge, and the social worker had nothing but praise to write in her report, so I think things are finally beginning to work out for him," She said sipping on her iced tea and nodding enthusiastically.

"That's awesome," Garcia said clapping her hands chunky jewelry clinking in unison. Emily smiled and they continued chatting throughout lunch, before returning to the BAU, consulting on an old case with Morgan and Reid.

At 5:30, she bid adieu to her colleagues and headed for the elevator so she could pick Declan up from his afterschool program he was a member of. She unlocked her car, throwing her purse into the passenger seat, flipping her hair over her shoulder and starting the engine. Hearing the purr of the motor she fiddled with the radio before shifting the car into reverse. Looking into the rearview mirror as she backed out she slammed on the brake, for looking back at her was a pair of glacier blue eyes. The eyes of a ghost…

"Hello, Emily…"


	2. Leaving

A/N: Ok, I know the first chapter was a little short and to the point, but I really needed to move this along, or it would be ooober tedious to read!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.

"**Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming, swimming…"**

**Dory –Finding Nemo**

"Hello, Emily…" Ian Doyle said from the back seat of Emily's darkened car.

Emily was froze with fear, a million thoughts ran racing through her mind…_What the fuck is going on? He was dead, I saw him get shot, I watched them put him in a body bag! Oh, god what about Declan, Wheres Declan? _

"I-I-Ian?" She said stammering, she felt like she was talking to a ghost, from her own personal hell. Her fingers itched to grab her gun, roll down the window and scream, but she couldn't move. Her body was a cage unto itself. Fear had her froze to the steering wheel, knowing there was more than likely a Glock aimed at her back…

"Hello, Love, did you miss me?" He said smirking, he could see her body stiffen at the sound of his voice, knowing her instincts screamed at her to move but she couldn't. "Pull out of the parking lot, Love. We're going to be late." He said sitting back gun still pointed at her back.

"How did you get in here? I thought you were dead, I saw them bag up your body, you said goodbye to your son!" She said breathily as she shifted the car into reverse, then drive.

"Allllll in good time, love, all in good time, now give me your gun, slowly." Ian said. Shakily, she reached into her holster and grabbed her gun with two fingers handing to him without turning around.

"Now drive." He said pocketing her gun.

"Where are we going?" She asked, hoping he would not say where she thought he would.

"Don't play dumb with me, Emily. You know what I want, I want my son, and you're going to take me to him." Ian growled in her ear shoving the gun into the back of her neck.

"Ok, Ok, we pick up Declan then, what? What's your plan? You'll never get yourselves out of the country! I'll never let you take him!" She said vehemently.

"Oh, that won't be too much of a problem my love, because you're going with us."

"Ian you've lost your mind, theres no way-"  
>"Stop and listen. I have passports, we have a flight to catch and I'm damned if the three of us won't be on it." He said warningly. "Emily, love, you're a BAU profiler. You profiled me for a long time, tell me what do you believe is safest? I'm taking my son, with…or without you. Either you come with me, or try to stop me. But based on the circumstances, I'd recommend the former, get in my way and I won't hesitate this time to take you out for good. You've got in my way for the last time… It's your choice. Consider this your second chance."<p>

"Ok! I'll go, I'll go with you. Where are we going?" Emily asked frantically, driving on autopilot to Declan's school, thinking of ways to escape. Weighing the pros and cons of her situation, she thought Ian's anger at her betrayal would no doubt, snap at any resistance to his plans, and she wouldn't put it past him to put a bullet right through her brain, after all he'd planned on it before anyways. She considered Declan's safety, Doyle probably already knew where he was, just toying with her… yes, she had to go, she'd already risked her life and career for this child, she wasn't about to abandon him now.

"You'll see." Was all he said. _Awesome, no help at all! Think Emily, think goddammit! _The profiler in her head said that Ian posed no permanent danger to her or Declan as long as things went as planned. _Just keep swimming._ She thought silently. Suddenly a thought burst into her head, his gun.

"Ian, Declan is going to be very scared and confused, please, please put the gun away, he's terrified of guns._ TERRIFIED_. Just please, just put the gun down." She pleaded. The kid was already paranoid and gunshy of her gun, cringing whenever she took it out to put it away. The last thing he needed to see was a gun pointed at her back. He might flip and try to do something crazy that could get them both killed. "Ian, He thinks you're dead and he watched his mother and the woman who raised him get shot, the last thing he needs to see is your gun aimed at my head!" She cried starting to panic, Ian was not moving as he stared out the window at the children running to their parents cars and minivans. "Ian!" She snapped angrily, trying to get his attention.

He looked at her calculatingly, as if daring her to pull a fast one, he raised an eyebrow as she turned around to face him, her face begging him to think of his son. Slowly he tucked the gun into his leather jacket, still keeping it trained on her however. She turned around, looking frantically for Declan, biting her nails nervously.

"That's a terrible habit you know." He said with a chuckle and a smirk.

"Bite me, Ian." She said bitterly…She's just gotten them to grow a little too. _Damn him_…

"Oh I know just how much you'd like that, Love…I think we should wait until we get to where we're going don't you think, or would you like to do it right here in the car? Hmm? Wouldn't be the first time you and I—"

"Shut Up! You fucking bastard I swear to god, if you even think about—"

"Love, watch your language in front of my son, eh? I don't want him learning all your bad habits…"

_Like you're a terrific role model_? She thought rolling her eyes, but shut up anyways.

Emily inhaled sharply as she saw Declan approaching the car, unassuming, smiling and waving at her. Ian watched enviously at the relationship between the two of them, as Emily smiled and waved back. Emily is the mother Declan should have had all along. Ian's blood boiled at the thought of that stupid whore, Chloe Donaghy…He shoved those thoughts aside, as the car door opened.

Declan climbed in and looked over at Emily in fright and confusion as he saw Ian sitting behind her and smilng at him.

"Hello, son."

"Emillyy-yy" Declan stammered, "Whats going on? Why is he here? I- I thought-" He started to hyperventilate.

"Declan, Declan, calm down honey, its okay, shhh.. its okay!" Emily said cupping his face with her hand trying to calm him down. "He's not here to hurt us okay? We're just, uh," She looked back to Ian as for guidance about what to say. Ian shrugged and nodded, for her to continue. "We're just umm, going on vacation, ok? We're going to-?" Again she looked at Ian for an answer. She felt helpless, looking back at Declan desperately, trying to calm him, to no avail.

"Dubai." He said firmly. Her eyes grew large with fear; Emily knew exactly why they were going to Dubai, and her face turned white. Although the United Arab Emirates had a fairly good relationship with the US, they had no extradition laws to the United States…Doyle would be untouchable there, although the United States considered him dead anyways. They were fucked. But she couldn't let Declan see her panic.  
>"Yeah, Sweety, We're uh, going to Dubai! It's amazing there. Have you ever been to the beach?" She asked. Declan slowly shook his head no, and sat back to buckle his seat belt, face ashen with fear.<p>

"Actually he has, Emily." Ian said speaking up. "Don't you remember Riccione, Italy?" He said raising an eyebrow at her in the rearview mirror.

_Ahhh yes, Riccione, _the Italian beach where she had first let her guard down with him, on a personal and intimate level. He had brought Louise and Declan and a few other staff with them. She remembered the two of them taking Louise and Declan down to the beach, watching Declan splash around in the gorgeous blue water.

"Ohh, yeah bud, you've been to the beach in Italy when you were younger, you probably just don't remember, but this beach is like, 100 times better than that one!" She said trying to get him excited. He smiled softly, biting his lip, turning his head to watch out the window. Emily glared into the rearview mirror, driving away from the school parking lot.

"Turn left, " He commanded.

"But, all our stuff, my cat—"

"The cat has been taken care of; we'll buy the rest." He said nonchalantly. "Make your way to Dulles airport, Love."

45 minutes later they were walking to the terminal Emily gripping Declan's hand for dear life, as Ian wrapped an arm around her. He'd made her leave her phone in the car, along with her wallet and keys. All she carried was her Louis Vuitton tote, she'd bought in Paris, that had a mystery novel, some Cheetos, her perfume, and sunglasses. Doyle had given her a new Chanel wallet with a fake ID, and a fake passport. Her new name was Emmeline Farrell, wife of Ian Farrell, and their son Declan Farrell, all emigrants from Ireland to America, on undetermined vacation to the lovely emirate of Dubai. She rolled her eyes when she saw her picture, and wondered where he found her old drivers license photo.

They'd made it through security and were boarding the plane, as Emily headed for coach seating, Ian redirected her towards first class, his fingers digging into her elbow she subtly dug her elbow into his ribcage, making his grip ever tighter as he smiled as the stewardess showed them to their seats in the back of the plane.

"I should have known you would have booked first class," she mumbled.

"Well, I know how much you like the champagne up here," he said winking at her. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Declan who hadn't said a word since he got in the car, or stepped out of it again.

"Everything's gonna be ok, sweetie, I promise nothing bad is going to happen to us," she whispered, brushing his hair out of his pretty blue eyes as he stared out the window, as the plane accelerated into the clouds. As she hugged Declan, Ian opened up a newspaper across from them and started reading, she looked at him briefly, and couldn't decide who she was trying to convince more, Declan, or herself?


	3. Running

"_**Courage is the discovery that you may not win, and trying when you know you can lose.**__**"**_

_**-Tom Krause**_

The flight to Dubai felt like a lifetime, and Emily had never felt more uncomfortable flying first class. Thoughts and memories played over and over in her mind. This delusional attempt to play house would not last long, no matter if she played along or not. The spy in her head told her to just play along, gather information, seduce Ian into a sense of ease, after all, she'd done it once before. The profiler in her characterized Ian's behavior; he seemed calm, like things were going well. His silence indicating his control over her situation, he knew the awkward silence was making her uneasy. Eventually however, his grand delusion would be shattered. And shit would hit the fan…

Emily glanced down at Declan, who was slowly picking apart the Styrofoam cup that held the juice Ian had ordered for him; along with the glass of champagne for her that she refused to drink. God only knew what he'd slipped in it, when she'd escorted Declan to the bathroom. At first, she was surprised Ian had not followed them, but she realized, as Ian had, that they were 7 miles high above the Atlantic Ocean. They weren't going anywhere.

She absentmindedly chewed on her fingernails, tapping her boot anxiously on the floor.

"Emily…" Ian said sighing in annoyance at her behavior. She rolled her eyes, making sure he saw before he flipped back to the magazine he was reading. Suddenly, he pulled out his phone, apparently reading a text message, before sliding it back into his pocket. Briefly she saw the black metal of his Glock, her jaw dropping. _How the hell did he get it on the plane?_

"Good news, the house is ready. We can go immediately after landing." He said smugly.

"House, what house?" She asked. As far as she knew, Ian had never owned a house in Dubai.

"I sold the villa in Italy, after it was seized. Too many bad memories there, you know? I bought a villa in the Palm Islands. Seemed a perfect place for a getaway," Ian said. Emily's mind was blown, _the Palm Islands? Jesus… _

After hours of being on the plane staring at the clouds, Declan finally laid his head to rest on Emily's shoulder, falling into a restless sleep. She stroked his blonde hair gently. Finally she couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Ian?" She asked quietly. They were seemingly alone on this flight.

"Yes, Love?" He said, not looking up from his iPhone he was now playing Doodle Jump on.

"How did you do it?" She almost whispered at him. She was still in so much shock from seeing him in the flesh it was almost surreal.

Sighing, Ian looked up and Emily flinched at the way his glacier blue eyes pierced into her. Reflecting back to her espionage days, these were the same eyes at had petrified her from her assignment. She felt like they could see right into her soul. But she was brave, she was smart, she stuck it out, and ultimately she'd won, or so she'd thought.

"It wasn't me." He said finally.

"What do you mean it wasn't you? I should—"_I should know it was you, I slept with you_! Her mind protested vehemently.

"It was my twin brother, Connolly." He said rubbing his temple slowly.

"Twin? You never told me you had a twin! I thought you were an orphan?" She sputtered, dumbfounded at this revelation.

"There are a lot of things about my past I never told you, just like there were certain parts of your life you kept hidden from me." He said tersely. "But, yes me and my brother were orphans. He was adopted, but I never was. I was sick in the infirmary the day the couple came to the orphanage."

Emily just stared at him, mouth wide open.

"We never got along great. But, he uh, he held himself responsible for my not getting adopted, he felt guilty. His wife had died 4 years ago from breast cancer she'd battled for years. And then—then he was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. He felt he owed me, and he said if I wanted, now was the time to collect."

"So you used your identical twin brother as a human sacrifice?" Emily breathed in horror.

"No. No, I never meant for him to die, all I needed was a distraction so I could leave the country. I had already located Declan; Connolly was just keeping an eye on him for me, until I figured out a plan. I had told him about you. He knew I had killed you, or tried to, so his shock was sincere when you walked into that room. Like the living dead. I should have known you would survive, you've always been a fighter." He said shaking his head, smiling.

"I should have known you weren't dead. You've been haunting me for seven years." Emily replied dryly.

"It's the least I could do, considering what you did." Ian snapped bitterly.

Emily stopped talking, preferring not to provoke him too far in an enclosed space. _It could end in a massacre,_ she thought.

Soon, she felt the plane descend, felt the wheels touch solid ground. She made a plan in her mind, sporadically and riskily. Most airports had double sided restrooms, connecting one door on one side straight through to an exit on the opposite side. Her and Declan could go in one side and make a break for it out the other.

Walking out of the terminal she squeezed Declan's sleepy hand tightly as Ian guided them out towards the lobby.

"Ian, I-uh, I need to use the restroom. You know, uh female emergency." She said stopping, putting a hand on his arm. "Dec, do you need to use the restroom before we leave?" Emily asked looking down at him pointedly.

"Uh, yeah, yeah I guess I could go…"He said quietly. Ian sighed and shrugged, leading them to the restrooms. Emily breathed a sigh of relief as they approached and she saw the restrooms were double sided like she had anticipated. She waited for Declan to go in, making sure Ian stayed put out front, before going in herself. As soon as she was out of sight she bee-lined it past the other woman fixing their hair and makeup, and out the other side.

Quickly looking around to make sure Ian was nowhere to be seen, she ducked into the men's room. She found Declan blow drying his hands, grabbing his wrist she whispered urgently, "Come on Dec, we're leaving. We have to hurry!" Nodding fervently, he took her hand, following her out, only to run right into her back when she came to a dead halt, because blocking the doorway was Ian Doyle, looking pissed…


	4. Beating

A/N: Please pleas please review! I know y'all read it, so review, even if its criticism, as long as its constructive!

"Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten."

- Buddha

_SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! _Emily's mind screamed at her, this was bad. Nodding at passerby he put his arm around her neck, squeezing tightly as he leaned in to whisper angrily in her ear as he dragged them outside to the waiting town car. "You really I would let you fool me this time, Love? You're fucking with the wrong man Darling, and you know it." He said pushing her head down into the car after Declan had hastily climbed in. He knew the look on Doyle's face was not a good one.

Emily rubbed her sore neck idly watching Ian closely. This wasn't over, she could tell. He was barely controlling his rage. _I should have known, dammit! _A tear rolled down her cheek in frustration. Quickly she wiped it away before either Declan, or is father saw. She didn't want Declan to be anymore frightened than necessary, and she refused to give Doyle the satisfaction of seeing her frustration.

Eventually the town car pulled up in front of a 20 foot guarded gate, before entering and pulling up in front of the largest grandest house Emily had ever seen. The price tag on this piece of real estate was likely astronomical, she was sure. From what she could see, it had private beachfront access, and an infinity pool and hot tub. Along the side of house was a massive garden, overflowing with Freesia's and exotic orchids. The house was two stories tall, wide as can be, with giant pillars out front and a wrap-around balcony. The entire house was made of brick and adobe, with Terra Cotta roofing. Absolutely magnificent, for all of his faults, Ian Doyle was a man of impeccable taste, and knowing him meant nothing was ever done small scale. Extravagance expected…

Grabbing her already sore neck once more, Doyle led them into the massive foyer, immediately an older woman with white hair wearing a gray maids uniform rushed forward.

"Monsieur Doyle, so good to see you," she said taking their coats from them.

"Dorota, this is my son, Declan. I'd like you to take him to get a decent meal and show him to his room, he's had a long day." Ian said briskly.

"Yes sir. Can I get you and the missus anything?"

"No. We'll be in the study. Do not let anyone disturb us. We'll be back to check on Declan once he's in bed." Ian answered, looking pointedly at Emily. Biting her lip, she bent down in front of Declan.

"Dec, it's okay sweetie. Go eat dinner and I'll be back to tuck you in, kay?" She said reassuringly.

"Ok-kkk…" He said nervously. "You promise?"

"Promise." She said firmly. "I just need to talk to your father alone for a while, you know just boring grown up stuff, kay?"

"Okay." He said waving at her as Dorota put her arm around his shoulders, starting to chat with him about his hobbies as they walked away from them towards the kitchens. Standing up, she looked at Ian, where for a brief second she thought she saw a moment of warmth cross his features, before they once more resembled his icy blue glare.

Making no effort to hide it, he grabbed her by the hair dragging her off to a set of double doors behind the grand staircase. Wincing, her hands instinctively reached for her head, digging her nails into his hands, well trying to, seeing as how she had none. Doyle laughed cruelly and intensified his grip. Opening the doors he threw her inside, tripping on the rug she fell, where she felt a burning sensation across her knees. _Rug burn, son of a bitch!_ She thought angrily. Trying to stand up and fight back, she cried out as she felt a foot collide with her ribcage. She collapsed to the floor with an audible thud and a scream. Her ribs were still sensitive, being less than a year since the last time he'd broken them.

"You stupid bitch! You think after all you've done, all the times you tricked me, I wouldn't catch onto your little games?" Ian bellowed, kneeling down, knee in her chest plate, while she tried to catch her breath, as her wind got knocked out of her.

"Ian you don't know what you're doing to him," she breathed. "He had a future there, friends, a normal life!"

Screaming in rage Ian yanked her up by her hair, Emily yelled in pain turning her head to bite, chomping down when she felt skin. She let go as she felt herself being flung backwards over a giant mahogany desk in the middle of the room. Toppling over the desk, she hit her head on the wall behind it before laying still. She couldn't overpower him, her body tired and barely healed from their last tango together.

As she opened her eyes she saw the barrel of his gun aimed between her eyes.

"Go ahead, kill me," she chuckled bitterly. "He'll hate you forever," she said breathing harder. She knew she was on a treacherous slope but she didn't care. "He doesn't even remember the bad things you've done to him. Like when you backhanded him off his tricycle, or made him sick by eating a whole bar of soap for using a swear word when he was 4 years old!" She spat at him. His eyes widened in recognition of her words.

"How do you know that? You weren't even there? Who told you that?" He said slowly.

"It doesn't matter how I know, because it's true, isn't it? I wasn't there for him, to protect him from you, but I am now." She said defiantly. "And if you kill me, your son will never love you like you want him to so desperately. You have to control your temper!" Emily said slowly and firmly. Slowly, Ian lowered the gun breathing heavily, getting up off the floor, he took the clip out of the gun and threw it across the room, smashing a bottle of brandy on a shelf. He stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him as he went, leaving her alone, sobbing on the study floor.

When Ian did not return, Emily slowly used the desk to hoist herself up. She moaned and winced in pain, gasping short of breath. Peeking her head out of the door, she saw a maid walking down the hall.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where Declan's room is?" She asked attempting to stand up straight. She didn't want anyone seeing her weak, especially Declan.

"Third door on the left, in the North Wing hallway to your right," she said briskly.

"Thank you." Emily said rolling her eyes, still grimacing as she held herself up against the wall before limping down the hallway. She could feel her knee bleeding through her pants. She was just glad he'd left no marks on her face to make it obvious he'd beaten her. She just wanted to check on Declan and find an empty bed to crawl up and die on.

After what seemed like a mile of walking she found Declan's room. Knocking quietly she peeped her head in, "Declan? Are you awake?" Silence greeted her, so she took that as a sign that he was passed out cold. Quietly she shut the door behind her, and walked down the hallway until she saw another set of double doors with ornate carving on them. This, she assumed was the master bedroom, which she knew from experience Ian would demand she sleep in.

Opening the doors, she walked in without even turning on a light, found the big empty bed, and laid her head on the pillow. _What the hell is going to happen now?_ She thought before the whole world went black.


	5. Remorse

A/N: Thank you All of you who have reviewed so far, I really appreciate it. It means a lot to me To anyone questioning this fic, it is a romance fic Emily/Ian, but I am trying to stay true to who the characters are, so there will be violence, sex, and a lot of language so that's why the rating is M, even though it may not seem like it yet. And no, I did not forget the BAU who I love too, they will be brought in eventually… Keep reading and enjoy!

FYI: The whole making Declan eat a whole bar of soap, is that even possible? My parents used to make me eat soap, but it was only a teeny bit, but my parents aren't psychopaths so don't be offended if you really can't eat a whole bar of soap without dying and I false informed you, lol…

**Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.**

**-Sydney J. Harris**

Emily awoke again in the dark. She must have slept for days, it seemed. Her head was aching and it pained her to breathe. And like God once, said let there be light, the room became illuminated in a warm glow, by the silver lamp sitting on the night table. Sitting in an arm chair next to the bed sat Ian Doyle. Emily felt an immediate hatred for him, when she looked at him, not for what he did, but how damn fine he looked. He'd obviously showered and changed into a loose pale blue button up shirt and khaki pants, which made his eyes all the more blue. _Stunning,_ she thought bitterly, while she hadn't showered since the morning they left, her pants were stuck the blood from the massive rug burn she had, and her hair could have had a birds nest in it…she looked like she felt. Like absolute shit, _fucking bastard… _

"Good evening, Love," he said quietly.

"Says who?" She responded with a raised eyebrow; trying to prop herself up on one elbow to be level with him, but as she did she suppressed a whimper. Oh, fuck me…She screamed in her mind.

Seeing her struggle, Ian stood up and reached a hand behind her, to help her sit up.

"Don't touch me." She warned loudly. He lowered his hand, and sighed.

"So stubborn… So what's the plan? You can't lie in here forever." He said sardonically.

"I'm fine. I can do it myself." She stated firmly. Trying once more to prop herself up on one of the many pillows that now littered the bed. Wincing, she finally made it up to a sitting position. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, noticing the fabric sticking and pulling as her knee bent. Ian stood there patiently waiting for her with an eyebrow raised.

"Where's the fucking bathroom?" She asked irritably.

"Emily, watch your mouth…I won't tell you again." Ian said threateningly.

"Ian, where's the bathroom!" She yelled. She didn't want to play games with him right now. Right now she wanted a hot shower and clean clothes.

He inclined his head behind her, frowning. She rolled her eyes and made to stand up. Her body screamed at her as she tried to stand straight and clutched her side. She limped to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Conveniently, there was no lock. _Chloe_ she thought, remembering as she'd heard how the mother of his child tried to swallow a bottle of pills in the bathroom. She unbuttoned the navy blue shirt she'd worn to work the other day, to reveal the black camisole she'd worn underneath. Taking a deep breath she tried to lift the bottom up, she'd barely lifted it a couple inches before breaking down in tears. It would take forever to get it over her head, in the shape her ribs were in. She turned around quickly as she heard the doorknob turn.

"N-nno, get out Ian. Ian, I mean it!" She stammered. She didn't want his help, after all it was his fault she couldn't even undress her own self.

"I need to make sure your ribs aren't broken." He said ignoring her, walking in anyways, closing the door behind him.

Sighing in defeat she stood there as Ian slowly lifted up her camisole, "Raise your arms, Love," he said gently. Slowly and painfully Emily raised her arms enough for him to lift it up over her head. Tears flooded her eyes in pain and embarrassment. Dropping it to the floor, Ian stared at her side where a massive red, purple, black and blue, had formed about the size of a cantaloupe. She bit her lip in anger and pain. _Why me?_?

Ian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was showing an usual emotion across his face, something akin to grief, and…remorse? Emily tilted her head a little. Opening his eyes they wandered up from her ribs, over her black lace bra, to the stark white four leaf clover that now adorned her chest. Very softly, he brushed his fingers over it, giving her instant goosebumps. Say something Emily! Say something; don't let him touch you like this. This isn't going to end well! Her pragmatic mind, her voice of reason repeated, but she couldn't. She stood motionless as Ian traced her scar with his fingers, while his other hand reached up to cup her face. As much as she hated him, she couldn't help lean into his hand, closing her eyes.

"Emily, my love, what have I done?" He breathed almost like he was talking to himself, more than her.

She didn't answer for a moment she was already letting old memories and feelings, flood her mind. Like a twisted, mental pain killer, she let the memories take over and said quietly, "Are you going to…take care of me?" A question she'd asked once before.

Ian looked at her intently. "Yes, I am." Before giving her a chance to finish their repeat conversation, his mouth was on hers, rough and needy. Emily let herself go. Kissing him back with all the passion and heat that she had all those years ago. His hands entwined in her long hair, but didn't pull, and she didn't pull away; she stood still, moaning a little as he moved to kiss the sensitive spot on her neck behind her ear. She could hear his breathing and she knew exactly where this was heading. And for once, she didn't fight. Slowly she felt his hand go down to her pants undoing them skillfully, one handed and let them fall to the ground. She let him lift her up onto the cold bathroom counter, still kissing him, breathing in his taste and inhaling his scent. She could taste the wine he'd drank, and he smelled strongly of Givenchy cologne. Her favorite of his…

She stopped to undo his zipper and remembered for the millionth time another reason she'd loved him. _God save me now,_ she thought. She was already in pain and she knew by the time they were done she wouldn't be able to walk… She felt him enter her slowly, and she closed her eyes again to enjoy the thrilling sensation his loving had always given her. Soon after his thrusts began to go deeper and she felt her back arch, despite the pain she was in. The pain was in a distant place from the two of them. She felt like she was another person, she didn't feel hate towards Ian, she didn't even feel pain, she felt like…Like Lauren did.


	6. Starting Over

A/N: Omg Thank you to those of you who reviewed I am so excited to check my email and those : )! Soon I'm thinking about doing a couple chapters from Ian's POV; let me know what you guys think about that. Just to add some more dimensions to the story you know? I feel like it's kind of one-sided right now.

**People's**personalities, like buildings, have variousfacades, some pleasant to view, some not.  
>-<em> Francois De La Rochefoucauld<em>

After they'd finished, Ian had thoughtfully helped her into the shower. Helping her wash her back and hair, and then drying her when she was done. He'd brought her some black and gray plaid pajama pants with one of his black t-shirts to match and helped her get dressed. They did all this is basic silence, before she finally spoke again.

"Ian where's Declan? Is he alright? I want to see him," She said concernedly, sitting down on the bed again.

"Declan is fine, Love. He woke up around noon. He asked to see you, but I told him not to disturb you; you needed your rest too."

"Ian he's probably freaki—" She started to say, panicking.

"He's fine, I said." Ian reiterated calmly.

"Well, where is he?" She demanded.

"He's in his room Darling, its 2 o'clock in the morning…" Ian said with a laugh.

"Oh… Well, what did he do all day? I feel awful, I should have been there." She said biting her nails nervously.

"Well, he came out of his room and started wandering around, looking for somebody, I assume. However, today is the house staffs day off so, there was no one here but the three of us, well and security. Anyways, Declan found his way to the kitchen where I was taking my lunch, so I offered to make him lunch and give him a tour." Ian said.

"Oh… how did it go? Was he intimidated by you? He really doesn't remember you a whole lot. Just bits and pieces of his childhood, mostly when you guys lived in Ireland and Italy. "She said.

"He was a little shy at first, but he warmed up a little as the day went on. I showed him the gardens, the beach, the yacht, the stables, and the rest of the house. I also told him the same thing I'm telling you now. Do not; I repeat, Do Not go into the basement, unless I am with you. Is that understood?" he said sternly.

"Aww Ian, you didn't!" Emily whined. "Don't you know when you tell a child not to do something, that is ONLY thing they want to do?" She explained exasperatedly.

"There are rules, Emily. And one of those is not to go into that basement, am I understood?" He said strongly.

"I know he has to have rules, but don't be surprised if you catch him trying to get down there. And if there are consequences for him I demand to be there. I won't let you hurt him, Ian. " She said firmly. "What's down there that's so forbidden anyways?"

"Business." Was all he said, which was code for weapons of all shapes and sizes. Emily shook her head in exasperation. She should have known he would never just leave the lifestyle he'd chosen. "Why are you shaking your head?" He asked curiously.

Emily gave a light huff of laughter, looking up to the ceiling to avoid looking at him. "You couldn't do it, could you?" She said

"Do what?"

"Leave all the bullshit behind you. You claim you want to start over with your son, and me," She emphasized, "but you can't leave what got it all taken away from you in the first place!" She said tears welling up in frustration, blinking them away.

"Emily, how many times do I have to tell you. I can't, it's in my blood."

"And how many times do I have to tell you: I don't want any part of that! I told you once before I wouldn't raise Declan to have your life. Do you honestly believe that is what's best for him? More importantly, do you think I would have turned you in otherwise? I offered to get you out, so we could have been a family, and you refused me. You gave me no choice." She said, letting the tears flow more freely. It was true, she'd had real feelings for him and his son, but she couldn't stomach the monster that he would groom that child to be.

Ian stared in shock, saying nothing at first. After a moment he spoke, "So you're saying if I would have promised to leave this life, you would have stayed with me, given up your career, raised my son, all if I would have accepted your offer?"

"Yes, Ian that's what I'm saying. I offered to get you out, we could have been together. I was willing to marry you. I gave you my heart, and you kind of stomped on it." She said chuckling through her tears.

Suddenly Ian got up from across the bed where he was sitting, crossed his arms and started pacing.

"How can I trust anything you say? Everything that's come from your mouth has been a bullshit lie. You had me sitting in hell for 7 years, without any thought. You moved on, dated other men, got a new job, a new life. If having us be a family was so important how could you just throw it away?" Ian said, now visibly upset. He kept his distance though, pacing across the room from her. Obviously trying to keep himself away from that tempered edge.

"Ian, you have to know how much I cared for you, I still do, even considering what you've done to me!" She pleaded.

"What I've done? What about you? You took my son from me, my flesh and blood. You had no right to hide him from me!" He yelled.

"I wouldn't have done any of that if you'd just listened to me!" She yelled back. "And so what? You wouldn't even claim him! Your own "flesh and blood" and you wouldn't even raise him as your own." She spat despicably.

"Now you see why? So people couldn't use him against me, and the one person I trusted with more than my own life, you were the only one who knew and you did exactly what I was afraid of!" He said angrily.

"I'm sorry, Ian, I never meant to hurt you. I only meant to hide Declan from that world." _And from you_… She finished silently, as she got up and slowly walked over to him, putting her hand on his arm to stop his pacing. His back was turned to her but she knew what he was thinking. His jaw was clenched, eyes closed. He didn't believe her, but at least he was controlling his anger towards her for the time being.

"Ian?" She asked after a couple minutes of silence.

Slowly he turned around to face her. His face was still tight with controlled emotion, but he finally spoke. "Come. Let's get you something to eat. We can more about this later." He said putting his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to kiss the top of her head.

Emily sighed. "Yeah, I guess I am a little hungry. Will you show me around afterwards?" She already felt exhausted, but she felt it better to try and reconnect with him, rather than push him away and risk another incident like yesterday.

Together, with Ian's help she walked down to the kitchens with him, while he pulled out some eggs. "What would like? Your usual omelet, or scrambled?" He asked.

"My usual." She said with a small smile. She was surprised he still remembered how she liked her eggs. Shortly after, her sausage, egg, and cheese omelet was completely devoured. She felt like she hadn't eaten for weeks. Her ribs were still throbbing, however.  
>"Ian, do you have any ibuprofen or something around here? My side is killing me." She said with a raised eyebrow.<p>

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out 2 large white pills. "I meant to give these to you when you woke up." He said with a pained look at her when he handed them to her.

"Vicodin?" She asked making sure she knew what she was putting inside her body.

"I'm not as young as I used to be, Love. Bad back you know." He said chuckling.

Popping them into the back of her mouth, Emily swallowed.

"Ian, where does everyone think I am? I assume you took care of that so no one would bother to come looking?" She asked pointedly.

"Ahh well, my housekeeper called Declan's school, pulling him out indefinitely due to a family emergency. And as for your team, I believe you should be making a phone call right about now," he said, pulling out his cell phone.

"Its prepaid, they won't trace it." He said. "You'd better hurry, it's about 6:30 pm there. Aaron might still be in the office." He said handing it to her. "You know the drill, Love, you needed a vacation and decided to take you and Declan to Barbados. You make your plan to return vague." He said firmly.

10 minutes later she got off the phone, handing it back to Ian. She'd tried hard to be convincing enough for Ian, without setting off alarm bells for him or Hotch. Hotch was taken aback at her abrupt leave of absence, but knowing all the stress she'd been under lately, had "understood completely," and had told her to take all the time she needed. Just to keep checking in periodically, he wanted to make sure she was okay. She'd agreed, said goodbye, biting her fingernails. She'd basically sealed her fate and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. She'd left all of her friends and family behind, all to appease her arch nemesis, whom she had feelings for… _What the fuck is wrong with me,_ she despaired.


	7. Family

A/N: Thank you to Come2MyRescue for your review! That is so nice of you! And Thanks to the rest of you who reviewed as well I'm so excited to keep writing. I'm thinking since no one objected the next chapter after this will be from Ian's POV, and then possibly alternating between him and Emily, if I don't totally suck at writing from his POV. Any hoo onto the next chapter!

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

-Leo Tolstoy: Anna Karenina

After Emily had eaten, she swallowed her pain so Ian could give her a private tour of their personal "Fortress of Solitude." The beach at night was breathtaking, the sand squeezing in between their toes, while the light wind blew their shirts around. He showed her the stable, which come to find out had a horse named Vixen for her, a blackish brown mare with a glossy black tail and mane. Declan too, had his own horse, which he had already seen and taking a liking too. His name was Buddha, a young roan stallion, who, Ian assured Emily, was quite calm enough for a child to ride, hence the name: Buddha.

"Where's your horse?" Emily asked as they kept walking down the stable hall.

"She's not here yet, she's being flown from Ireland as we speak." Ian said with a smile.

"Oh, well what's her name?" Emily asked, a little puzzled. She'd figured Ian to have the most manly, fastest, largest Stallion he could find, not a mare.

"Lauren." He said quietly tucking his head down, as though embarrassed. Emily was shocked. She didn't know to take it as a compliment or be insulted he'd named a horse after her alter ego. She smiled anyways, "Why'd you name her after me?" She asked teasingly. She couldn't wait to hear what he pulled out of his ass for this one…

"I named her Lauren because she is stubborn, beautiful, headstrong, tall, near unbreakable. And, she'll kick you in the teeth if she gets the chance." Ian said smiling raising an eyebrow at her. Well, she had wanted honesty right?

Emily chuckled at that one. "Sounds like a smart horse," she teased. They continued on with the tour of the massive house, there were 12 bedrooms, a rec room for Declan that connected to his bedroom, with every gaming system and game, or form of digital entertainment you could think of. There was a music room with a grand piano. There was a family den, with a giant 56 inch plasma and comfy micro suede couches. There were 3 libraries, plus Ian's study. And to top it all off there were 15 bathrooms, 8 full, 7 half bathrooms. This house was INCREDIBLE.

Soon, the Vicodin kicked in and Emily had to admit she was tired, after all it was now almost 4:45 in the morning. Ian led her back up to the master bedroom, letting her brush her teeth and comb her hair. When she emerged she found Ian stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt. Sitting on the edge of the bed. She swallowed. She'd prepared herself for this, and it wasn't altogether unfamiliar, after all they'd lived together for almost a year at one time. Hell, she'd just banged him an hour or so ago; this just seemed so intimate, so personal. She slowly crawled under the covers on her side of the giant bed, _this is going to be so awkward_, she thought embarrassedly. It had been some time since she'd shared a bed with anyone but Sergio! Moment's later she felt Ian slide in on his side without a word. She peeped over her shoulder to see if he was facing her, but saw only his broad shoulder with half of his Celtic cross tattoo that covered his entire back. Sighing in relief, she turned back onto her side. "Good night, Ian," she almost whispered, wondering if he'd even heard her.

"Good night, Love." He replied after a moment of silence. 6 hours later, they awoke to a tapping on their door. Emily opened her eyes sleepily, looking around. Ian's arm was draped across her hips, carefully avoiding her ribcage. "Ian…Ian! Wake up!" She whispered tapping his arm.

"What is it Emily?" Ian growled. He was not a morning person. Before she could tell him someone was at the door, the handle slowly turned and a blonde head stuck its head in.

"Em? Em? Em, are you in here?" Declan whispered loudly looking around the massive room. Before he noticed, Emily threw Ian's arm off of her hips and sat up.

"Dec? I'm right here hon," She said wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"Can I come in?" He asked shyly.

"Yeah, come here bud." She beckoned with both hands, indicating she wanted a hug. Declan sprinted practically to her side before embracing her in a bone brushing bear hug, well has hard as a 12 year old boy could. "I'm sorry I didn't see you yesterday bud, I was just so tired from the plane and work and everything," _and getting shit beat out of me, again…_ she thought, giving Declan a small smile. "Did you have a good time though? I heard your father showed you around yesterday." She said.

"Yeah, Em, guess what, I have my own horse! And there's a piano here too! And, And there's a game room, and Ian's got a boat and, and he knows how to make macaroni and cheese the way we like it!" Declan said after plopping down on the bed in front of her.

"Oh does he now?" Emily said in feigned amazement. Ian is the one who had first introduced her to macaroni in the microwave, and she'd made it for Declan and he adored it.

"Yeah, and he said we could go swimming in the ocean today!" Declan said looking over at Ian who had propped his head up on his hand when Declan sat down, knowing he was not going back to sleep.

"Really? That sounds awesome." Emily said high fiving Declan, giggling. Ian smiled at the two of them.

"Well I hate to burst your bubbles, but before we can do anything else, we need to go to town and get you two some clothes and swimsuits and such." He said chuckling.

"Aww man shopping?" Declan pouted.

"Declan, be polite," Emily warned. "Unless you wanna go swimming in your birthday suit and get Nemo stuck up your buttcrack you're gonna want at least a swimsuit…And some sunblock," she teased, ruffling his hair. Frankly, she did need some clothes her own size.

"Okkkk, but can we go now, so we can hurry up and go swimming before dinner?" He asked excitedly his eyes lighting up.

"Well that's up to Ian, why don't you ask him," She nodded over towards Ian, smilng.

"K, Ian can we go now? Pleaaaaaaassse, Pleaseeee," Declan said swooshing his hair out of his eyes, to flash his sparkly blue eyes…Identical to the man staring back at him.

"Yeah, I S'pose. Let Emily and I get dressed and we'll meet you at the front door in ten okay?" Ian said tiredly, sitting up against the headboard.

"Yeah! Ok. Hurry up though!" He said before hugging Emily and running out the door, slamming it behind him.

Ian was sitting there rubbing his temples, eyes closed. Emily shook her head laughing at him.

"I fail to see what's so funny here, Love," he pouted.

"Oh, nothing. You said you wanted your son back and a family, well you did no matter how unhappy we all are, so you'd better get up and get dressed or you're going to hear it all day long." She said looking around in the closet for something of Ian's she could wear. Finally she settled for a pair of rip off Adidas jogging pants, a white v-neck and the matching jacket to the pants. She looked like a soccer mom. _Wonderful_…

Ian finally crawled out of bed, stumbled to the bathroom, came back out and got dressed.

"Ready?" She said perkily. For once she'd remembered someone who was less of a morning person than she was and she fully intended to revel in it. Ian just glared at her, in a playful way, rolling his eyes. Well, he wanted a family…..

A/N 2: Sorry if this chapter was a tad dull, the drama will kick up again next chapter, I promise. PLEASE REVIEW!


	8. Self Destruction

A/N: Omg thank you guys so much for your awesome reviews! I like, die reading them. You are feeding my ego in a good way ;) Ok, so as promised this Chapters POV is going to be from Ian's view, but I CANNOT guarantee the quality of his view lol I had the WORST time trying to wirte him and I don't think I did him justice : (…Much less dialogue also. Let me know after this chapter if you want me to alternate or stay with Emily ok? Keep reading! Love, Me : )

"_**I hated her now with a hatred more fatal than indifference because it was the other side of love."**_  
><strong>-<strong>**August Strindberg**

After getting dressed, and walking towards the staircase, Ian noticed what a dramatic turn his life had taken. Not to say it was perfect in any way, but things were finally going his way. His son was returned to his rightful place, the woman he had once loved was in his arms again, and business was good. Now the trick was to keep it that way… Ian rubbed his eyes tiredly as he approached Emily and Declan waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him. Declan was chattering excitedly to Emily, who was smiling and nodding emphatically to him. He gave a weak smile to Emily and caught her gaze for a moment. She was wary of him to say the least, he knew that. He had a temper, some would say it was the Irish in him, but whatever it was, he was powerless to control it when it struck. She had no reason to trust him again, or he her, to be honest, but she had a charisma about her that he was inevitably drawn to. She was stubborn, independent, and a valid opponent, all those characteristics that he as an alpha male should've been repelled by.

"Ok, let's go. If you want to get to the beach before sundown, we'd better make this fast." Ian said to the two of them. He held the door open for Emily as they stepped outside into the blistering desert heat. Soon after they were in the car, they pulled up to the doors of the Dubai Mall. Emily gasped in shock. She wasn't much of a shopper if he recalled. So instead he'd showered her with expensive gifts he'd picked out himself. He enjoyed watching her eyes light up when she opened them. Now, however it was another story. She would be picking, because quite frankly, he didn't have the patience first thing in the morning to deal with petty store associates. He was quite content to pay for the shit and hold the 26 bags he knew they would end up with.

Walking in, they made a plan to shop for Declan first. Stopping by Burberry Children, Diesel Kids, and Guess Kids, they picked up enough boys clothes for any number of activities including church clothes he'd insisted upon. As well as a suit and multiple pairs of shoes. By the time they'd stopped to get Declan a hot pretzel and Emily some donuts Ian was exhausted. The day had only begun and he was ready to retire for the night. It was easier to lead international hit lists and gun running through multiple countries than to shop for hours upon end in the largest mall in the world. Next was Emily. He smiled at her as she lead them to Aftershock, Burberry, BCBGMAXAZRIA, Chanel, Escada, and Nina Ricci. After they were done and Emily had enough outfits to satisfy the most picky of women and shoes and bags to match, they headed back out to the car. He'd just dropped thousands of dollars on this shopping trip and was ready to sit back in the sand with a glass of scotch and watch Emily and Declan play in the ocean.

"Declan, what do you say?" Emily prompted as they reached the house. Ian smiled, she was very polite when it came to Declan, it was ironic the words that left her mouth when he wasn't around.

"Thank you, Ian!" Declan said happily, grabbing some of his bags from her, and sprinting to the front door and raced to his room to change into his new bathing suit, before Ian could even say, 'you're welcome.'

"He's so adorable," she said from behind him as she stood by the trunk as the driver hand her bags of merchandise.

"Yes, he is… D'you ever think about having one of your own?" Ian asked quietly walking to the back of the car to help her with the bags. She looked up at him startled at his abrupt question.

"I dunno, I mean, we've talked about this before…" she hedged, obviously not wanting to repeat the conversation.

"That was seven years ago, Love. You're not undercover anymore, no one's looking for you." Ian said. Her eyes automatically turned frantic.

"Ian, be serious," She said, a light pleading note in her voice, as they walked inside.

"I am." He said giving her a firm look. He wanted more children, and she was going to give them to him, one way or another.

"Ian—it's not that I don't want to have kids," she paused, clearly trying to find the most appeasing way to put it, "I mean, I'm 40 years old… and besides you already have Declan." She said.

"Emily. I want to be able to raise my children with a mother that loves them, and to able to raise them as my own. I made that mistake with Declan, and I've spent 12 years of my life regretting it." He said slamming some of the bags down on the dresser. She was starting to aggravate him. _Why couldn't she just say yes? _Why did she always have to defy him at every turn? It was maddening. Obviously, they cared for each other, he could give her and his children a good life. What was the problem?

She stood in the center of the room, picking at her fingernails, ducking her head, trying to figure a way out of this one. Well this is one argument she would not win. He knew even if she didn't want to have kids, if she did get pregnant he would never have to worry about her like he had Chloe. She was a good mother to Declan, and he wasn't even hers.

"So, you're refusing me? You'll raise my son as yours, but you wont give me a son or daughter of our own?" He said a note of hurt in his voice.

"It's not that, it's jus—" she started.

"Save it Emily. You made excuses 7 years ago and you're still making them now!" he said raising his voice, putting his hand up.

"Well do you really think the situation is any different now?" She argued, starting to get defensive. Dear, God ... He could feel where this was going and it wasn't going to end well.

"What the hell do you mean? The situation? The situation is totally different. I'm no longer a target, here my child is safe, and you are no longer trying to fuck me over. Or are you? Is this really what this is all about? You don't want kids because you're still planning on leaving. Well, I've got news for you Sweetheart, it's not happening! So you'd better just get used to it!" He yelled at her, getting in her face.

He was scaring her, he could see it in her eyes, but she like the warrior she was, refused to back down.

"You can't keep me here Ian! I'm not your prisoner, you fucking prick!" She yelled back, Smack! Before he could even stop himself he felt the back of his hand collide with her cheek. Stunned she immediately clutched at her face, glaring at him. He felt shame flood his emotions. God, could he not physically assault her for one argument they had?

Breathing hard he gave her one last glare, before turning on his heel and stomping from the room, slamming the door behind him. This day had begun so good, he had to go and ruin it. Reaching his study he locked himself in. Pouring himself a stiff drink he took a gulp, swallowing the liquid fire that was Irish whiskey. From his study he, could see Emily and Declan walking hand in hand towards the beach. Was it so wrong to want her beautiful baby to be his own? He sat in his study all day drinking and thinking. Darkness had fallen and he was very drunk. He hated her, but he loved her. He'd spent 7 years waiting to get his revenge on her, because he thought she didn't care about him. Now, he knew she did in fact care for him, and always had, but he couldn't keep himself from fucking it up royally. He was at the bottom of the bottle when he realized his hate towards her, was in fact hate for the man he'd become. His hate for her was not in fact hate at all, but the plunging depths of deep love for her, a love he was bound to destroy through self destruction.


	9. Nemo

A/N: Thank you to guys who reviewed. I'm just so happy people like this story I keep getting new ideas for chapters so here's another one! Back to Emily's POV, and I think I will alternate views just to keep it interesting )

"**A man nearly always loves for other reasons than he thinks. A lover is apt to be as full of secrets from himself as is the object of his love from him."**  
><strong>-<strong>**Ben Hecht**

Emily stood in stunned silence as her face flooded with a stinging heat. _One of these days,_ she thought bitterly, bringing her hand up to touch her red cheek. Ian glared at her with his icy cold eyes, before stomping from the room. Emily stared at the bedroom door for a moment before gathering her wits about her and reaching for one of the many bags. She began to put things away, almost compulsively, to get her mind off of what had just happened. Everything was going so well, she'd thought. Ian really wanted another child, but a deep secret she'd only told a handful of people in her life, stopped her cold. Even if she gave up her life back home to live in a faux marriage with a volatile man she may or may not have feelings for, deep down a voice refused to justify her having a child with Ian Doyle. She pulled out a bikini she'd purchased from Burberry and began to undress. She knew Ian well, and she was sure he'd disappear for a good few hours, so she was sure no one would walk in on her. She slipped on one of Ian's white button up shirts as a cover-up, grabbed a towel for her and Declan and headed for the full length mirrored closet doors. She looked intently at her face debating on whether or not to put foundation on. Deciding the redness was fading and with her sunglasses would not be noticeable to Declan. She took a deep steadying breath and headed for the door. She saw Declan coming out of his room, swim shorts on.

"Em, are you ready? This is gonna be AWESOME!" He said excitedly to her, jumping up and down like a bunny.

"Oh, I know." She said feigning excitement, taking his hand and leading him down the stairs and outside. As they were walking down the bricked drive that lead to the beach, she listened as Declan chattered excitedly about the ocean and his favorite movie Finding Nemo, which he'd insisted she watch a million and a half times.

"Emily, you think we'll see any sharks? Or, or, or Sea turtles?" He said eyes going wide.

"Nah, I don't think that you'll see any of those here she said with a giggle. "Where did Marlin have to go when he saw the sea turtles?" She asked faking seriousness, the corner of her mouth twitching.

"The EAC! The East Australian Current!" He yelled. "Wait, where are we again Em?"

"We're in Dubai Hon, which is a part of the United Arab Emirates. Which is notttttt really close to Australia," she said smiling.

"Oh, bummer…" He said walking next to her in the sand as they reached the beach. "Hey Emily, where's Ian? I thought he was coming too?" Declan asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"Oh," she said quietly, "Well honey, he had some work that came up. But, uh, he's really sorry. He wanted to spend some time with you." She said empathetically. Declan's face fell.

"Oh, okay…" He said almost gloomily. Emily's heart dropped. Ian finally had his son back and his son actually wanted to spend time with him and now he was letting him down all over again. Declan soon forgot all about it as they played in the salty water and built 3 sandcastles, Declan let Emily bury him in white sand and she sunbathed while he dug a trench around them. Their own island, he'd called it.

They watched the sun go down, before heading back to the giant house. They ate enormous portions of Fettuccini Alfredo for dinner while making plans to go try the pool tomorrow and take a walk in the gardens. After dinner they walked upstairs to Declan's room and played Mariokart on the xbox. After gracefully losing 4 races in a row, Emily conceded defeat and sent Declan to take a shower and head for bed. After she tucked him in, Emily walked tiredly to the master bedroom. Opening one of the doors slowly, she peeped her head in. Ian was nowhere to be seen. Sighing, she walked in throwing her towel in the hamper, and undoing her bathing suit. She stepped into the large 4 person jet tub, filling it to the brim with hot bubbly water. Slowly she let herself unwind from the stress of the day. An hour later she was crawling into the giant California King bed, squeezing the pillow tight.


	10. Regrets

**A/N: Thank you guys for reviewing to that last chapter, I know it was really short and not very eventful and I really appreciate you guys taking the 2 seconds it took to read it lol. This chapter is again from Emily's POV because it basically leaves off the last sentence of the previous chapter. FYI: Spoilers for episode 4x17 Thanks for reading, XOXO! **

"**A man nearly always loves for other reasons than he thinks. A lover is apt to be as full of secrets from himself as is the object of his love from him."**  
><strong>-<strong>**Ben Hecht**

Ian never came to bed that night. She awoke the next day to an empty bed, his side still made up. Slightly concerned she slithered out of bed in her black satin pajamas, putting her slippers on she called out for him. "Ian?" Silence greeted her, he wasn't there. She walked to the French doors that led to the balcony and stepped outside. Looking around she saw gardeners and housekeepers fluttering around but saw no sign of Ian.

Walking back inside she decided to look in the one place she'd always been able to find him before. His study. She walked downstairs silently, nodding to the maids that passed her in the hallway. Knocking, she heard nothing. Looking around her to make sure no one was watching, she tried the handle. Locked. She pulled her hair pin that had her messy bun held up and tried again. To her surprise the door popped open… She walked into a room that stunk of booze and stale puke. The strong odor of Whiskey and bourbon burned her nose. What the hell had been going on in here? She looked around for Ian and found him lying on the couch bottle of Jameson clutched to his chest. Wondering if he knew just how vulnerable he was making himself to an attack by drinking himself stupid. She covered her nose and walked over to him, just to make sure he was still breathing, suddenly he snored loudly and she jumped before she hightailed it out and shut the door behind her.

It was one thing for Ian to drink because he was upset, it was another to drink himself comatose and from the smell and sight, throw several bottles of liquor against the walls. Either he felt so horrible about what he'd done to her, or he was so angry at her for refusing to have his baby. She was puzzled, her inner profile said that Ian was a sociopath, and could feel no empathy but she knew differently. He did feel pain, love, and hurt, like others. He just dealt with it differently. But, could their conversation really have angered him this much that he would drink himself into oblivion?

Sighing in frustration because she didn't know what to do, she didn't want to confront Ian while he was drunk, but she could hardly let him lie there in his own vomit and sweat. She groaned before turning back around to go back inside. He was going to be pissed that she broke in, but she had to. Although he was an asshole, she was a better person than him. She walked into the rank, dark room. She approached him, almost tip toe-ing. She crouched down next to the couch. "Ian?" She said quietly. No answer, he just roused enough to grasp the bottle tighter and turned onto his side to face her. "Ian!" She said a little more loudly His eyelids fluttered open. "IAN! Look at me!" She said firmly.

"Emily?" Ian rasped.

"Yes, it's me Emily. I need you to open your eyes." She said again. Ian forced his eyelids open, his eyes rolling back a little. "Ian, how much have you had to drink?" Emily asked. He looked at her squinting his eyes as though he was trying to see far away.

"Uhhh…A lot." _Of course. That was a stupid question, _She thought rolling her eyes.

"Ok Let's get you upstairs. Think you can get into the shower?" She asked eyebrow raised. He nodded barely. She helped him sit up, swaying as he went. This was going to be difficult. After what seemed like hours, they made it, stumbling and tripping, up the stairs, into the bedroom. She helped him undress, as he leered pervertedly. She got her revenge though, when she shoved him into a freezing cold shower. Minutes later, he was coherent enough to curse loudly and turn the water to hot. She sat on the toilet bouncing her legs up and down. She didn't know what he would be like half sober, whether or not he was still angry about their conversation earlier… After minutes of awkward silence she said, "Ian?" so quietly she almost didn't herself over the noise of the shower.

After a tense second, she thought he was ignoring her.

"Yes, Emily?" He said tiredly. She sat up straighter in surprise; she hadn't really expected an answer.

"Um, are you ok?" She asked, but that wasn't really her question.

"I'm fine."

"I—Well, I was wondering, Are… Are you still mad at me? You know about, last night?"

Silence…

"I-Ian?" She asked quietly.

"Emily. Stop talking please." Ian said tersely. _Oh, still mad_… she thought.

"Oh, okay." She sat there picking at her fingernails. _Now's the time!_ She thought nervously to herself. She didn't want to keep it a secret anymore, not if this was going to put stress on an already fragile "relationship" so to call it. She took a deep breath. "Listen, Ian… I—I need to tell you something. You know, about the ba-baby thing." She stammered quickly before he could stop her.

The water shut off. She held her breath in angst. She had thought maybe the best time would be now, while he was slow moving, tired, hungover, thinking maybe he would be more receptive, less defensive, while his mind was on recovery road. Now, she was worried that being tired, hungover, he would be more prone to irrationality and possibly violence…

"What do you mean?" He said slowly as he reached out to grab the towel from the wall. She was glad that the partial wall separated the toilet from the shower, so he couldn't see her biting her nails and grimacing. She was shaking her legs like a nervous crack addict and she took a slow breath before she replied and said, "You don't know me as well as you think you do…"

"Meaning…" he said still drying off in the shower.

"Well, you remember telling you about my childhood friend Matthew? From Italy?" She said shakily.

"Yes…" Ian said, he didn't seem to like where this was going. Emily didn't either. She was tired of hiding this secret and she hated admitting it to others even more. Her eyes welled with tears as she bit her lip.

"Ian, when I was 15, oh, god… Ian, I uh, I was pregnant." She sniffed. This was harder than she had planned. She had no idea how he would take this. He stepped out of the shower, still unable to see her, but she heard the thud of his bare feet on the floor mat.

"So you had his baby?" Ian said tight jawed. "If you had a baby, Emily, where is it?"

"Ian, I didn't have a baby!" She cried. "I had an abortion!" she said before breaking down entirely. "Matthew wasn't the father… Matthew took me to have it done, he took me into the doctor, and then he- he walked me into the church on Sunday morning. Ian, I just—I was 15, I couldn't tell my parents, I couldn't tell anyone!" She pleaded, as he stepped around the corner. She'd expected anger, as he was deeply religious, but instead she saw an expression of confusion, and maybe compassion… "I—I just don't know how I could have another baby, with anyone, when I couldn't even keep—" She started hyperventilating. Ian's silence was scaring her, but she hiccupped and continued, "Ian, how can I have your baby? When I k-killed my first?" She whispered, looking up at him eyes bloodshot and leftover mascara running down her cheeks. He stood there staring at her for what seemed like a lifetime, before she broke his gaze, looking away biting her lip.

"Ian, please, please…say something." She begged…


	11. Acceptance

A/N: Hola Readers! Haha sorry about the cliff hanger of last chapter. Okay, first off I don't want to offend anyone by the way I referred to Emily's abortion as "killing," this story is in no way meant to paint women who have them in a negative light, even if I don't personally agree with it myself, that's just my personal opinion. So pleaassse don't be upset by that. ALSO this chapter is kind of the same as the last chapter… ANYHOO, onto the next chapter! Ian's POV by the way.

"**After an argument, silence may mean acceptance or the continuation of resistance by other means."**  
><strong>-<strong>**Mason Cooley**

Ian Doyle stood in his stone tiled shower, letting the hot water wash away his stress and the rank stench of old alcohol. He knew Emily was still there and he would be damned if he would say the first words. His mind was doing cartwheels and there was a pounding behind his eyes so fierce, he was sure they would fall right out of his skull. Yes, he was still upset about their conversation last night, but the long night of drinking and thinking had shoved the anger out and let the hurt step in. His pride had been hurt more than anything and he took her refusal personally. After all, how else was a man supposed to take it?

Very quietly from around the corner he heard a small voice say his name.

"Yes, Emily?" He said closing his eyes tiredly. He almost wished for a moment he was deaf and blind, because his hangover was so bad. Even her quiet voice was grating on his ears.

"Um, are you ok?" She asked quietly, almost as if she cared. He was slightly still drunk and in his mind a voice said sarcastically, _Why would she care? After all you've done to her? You're lucky you're still living…_ He blinked the voices away, before answering slowly, "I'm fine…" There was a pause, before she spoke again. Almost as if she didn't want to speak at all.

"I—Well, I was wondering, Are… Are you still mad at me? You know about, last night?" She asked. Ian froze, he had no answer to this question. Was he angry? Not necessarily, was he upset? Most definitely. Did he think continuing that particular argument right this moment was a good idea? Absolutely not. While he was still slightly drunk, he knew himself well enough that he was going to be an absolute dick if provoked and he already hated himself as it was for everything he'd already done to her in his life. If this conversation could just wait…

Again she stuttered his name. His silence was disconcerting to her. Her persistence was beginning to irritate him. _Stay, calm, Stay rational_._ Be Polite_. The angel on his right shoulder demanded.

"Emily. Stop talking please." He commanded quietly, but firmly.

"Oh, Okay…" She trailed off. He could just pictured her sitting there picking at her fingernails, biting them nervously.

"Listen, Ian… I—I need to tell you something. You know, about the ba-baby thing." She stammered quickly before he could stop her. He stopped cold. This could not be good. He shut the water off and reached for a towel outside the shower.

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly. _Calm. Calm_…

"You don't know me as well as you think you do…"

"Meaning…" he said still drying off in the shower.

"Well, you remember telling you about my childhood friend Matthew? From Italy?" She said shakily. Yes, he remembered her telling him about her childhood in Rome one night they were on a date in Tuscany. She had seemed to have a fondness for remembering the friends she'd once had there.

"Yes…" Ian said; he didn't like where this was going. He could hear her voice cracking as she continued.

"Ian, when I was 15, oh, god… Ian, I uh, I got pregnant," she said, starting to cry. Ian's heart stopped for a moment. Thoughts began racing through his head a million miles a minute. He stepped out of the shower, not saying a word, trying to articulate a single thought and putting it into speakable words.

Finally he said, "So you had his baby?" He couldn't believe this. If he hadn't heard it with his own ears he would have never believed it… She couldn't have been, she would have told him. He should have known about it! Had she ever planned on telling him? Probably not, her whole identity was based around secret keeping and lies, especially when it came to him. "Emily if you had a baby where is it?" He asked tersely. She couldn't have just given her only child away, but she was only 15 so maybe… There was no way—

"Ian, I didn't have a baby!" She cried. "I had an abortion! And, Matthew wasn't the father… Matthew took me to have it done, he took me into the doctor, and then he- he walked me into the church on Sunday morning. Ian, I just—I was 15, I couldn't tell my parents, I couldn't tell anyone!" She pleaded, as he stepped around the corner. She obviously feared his reaction towards this news. She knew what he'd done to Chloe when she'd tried to kill herself… and his child.

This explained so much, Ian thought as he crossed his arms, leaning up against the partial wall that separated the toilet from the shower. He looked down at his feet so she couldn't see any facial expression that might be crossing his face. This is why she was so taken with Declan; she was always meant to be a mother even if she never knew it. This also explained why she didn't want to have children, she felt so guilty about this, she couldn't justify herself loving a child of her own. Ian couldn't fathom what it must have been like for her all these years, keeping that secret. Yet, although he felt her pain, he had to suppress the anger that rose at the thought of yet another innocent baby not given a chance…Luckily for Declan, he'd been there at the house when Chloe had tried to kill them both with a bottle of pills. He sighed, he didn't know what to say. He would never condone the death of a child, no matter how small, yet he couldn't afford to drive Emily further away from himself emotionally. He looked at her as she sobbed weakly. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but he didn't even know where to begin. He stood there, thinking pursing his lips together. She stopped crying after a while, and looked up at him.

"Ian, please, please…say something." She begged. He thought for a moment before he held out his hand.

"Come here, Love." He said quietly, his head ached, and for once in his life he wanted nothing more than to just hold her. He didn't want to speak a word about it, because he would ruin it. He knew he would, so they stood in silence hand in hand before he pulled her into his arms and embraced her. She began sobbing into his bare shoulder, he could feel her tears running down his arm. And for one intimate moment of their life together they stood in silence. Not saying a word. Both coming to terms with acceptance…


	12. Surprises

A/N: Thank you guys for your reviews, I'm telling you: I am almost more excited to read your reviews as you are to read the story. Even though I should be heading to bed, I can't deny you guys another chapter since you were so awesome to review the last one! Emily's POV again : )

XOXO, K.

** …3 weeks later…**

**"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." **

–**John Lennon**

Emily looked into the mirror again puzzled. She didn't look any bigger. The pants had fit when she tried them on in the store. She tried the scale again. 4 lbs heavier. Well, that could be because of all the food she'd been eating, she rationalized. She lifted up her shirt, there was no noticeable difference.

She sighed. Things for the last few weeks had been good borderline on excellent considering the past. Ian had not once brought up the baby issue. He'd since then devoted almost 90 % of his waking hours to Declan, getting to know him again, spending time with him. She would've said they'd not fought, but that would be the fairytale. Of course they'd fought, but it was different now. Ian had started leaving when he felt himself get violent. He'd not raised his hand to her but once, and that had only been because she'd thrown a glass book end at him first. They'd been arguing over his drinking and how it was becoming a problem. He had not had any more drinking benders since the baby fight, but she was worried how his drinking would affect Declan later on.

Other than that, Ian had come to bed every night, had been more loving to her than he had, even in Italy. She hadn't been planning on ways to leave every second she was alone. It had been like the nice beach vacation she'd always wanted when she'd worked at the BAU. She missed her friends though. She'd made periodic supervised phone calls to Hotch, even spoke on speaker with the rest of the team. They'd all understood her insistence that she and Declan needed some time away. She felt guilty though, everyone worked so hard on that team, and they all deserved a break… Emily didn't know how long this could continue before shit would hit the fan, but she had a feeling it was coming sooner than she wanted.

Declan was having the time of his life. He and Ian had gone riding every day since Ian's horse had arrived; with a surprise for her: Sergio. He now roamed the giant house all day with plenty of attention from everyone in it, including staff.

Now, however she was going with Ian out to lunch with some married business associates of his, and although she refused to be a part of anything to do with that life, was told she was to tag along, to chat with the other 2 wives… Yippee. She rolled her eyes. She had a beautiful flowy top on, paired with these adorable white pants…That she couldn't get fucking buttoned! She was about to give up entirely and tell Ian she wasn't going unless she was going in her birthday suit. She didn't want to EVEN go there. To say Ian was horny was an understatement. He'd barely been able to keep it in his pants lately and although she wasn't complaining, there was no reason to… provoke him.

Then it hit her, like a ton of bricks. Like a table leg to her stomach all over again. Like an asteroid in the desert. She hadn't even thought about getting pregnant. She figured she was older; her biological clock had been ticking anyways! _Oh, god_. She thought. She bent over the sink and instantly vomited. She couldn't be. No way. Jesus, she couldn't remember her last period, she'd been due to start the week they'd left, but she'd just assumed the stress had made her late. And completely forgotten all about it. She rinsed the sink out, reaching for her tooth brush. This was not good. While she may have not figured out when or how she was to leave, she'd never planned on staying forever… _Oh my fucking god._ She paled in the mirror. She felt like she was 15 all over again. She couldn't tell a soul. _This is impossible_. She looked down at the white pants again, putting her hand over her stomach, looking at the thin jagged white scar on her left side. What was she supposed to do?

"Emily are you almost done? We're going to be late." Ian said from the bedroom where he was watching Ireland play France in an intense soccer game. A look of panic washed over her face as she spit the toothpaste out and wiping her mouth. She felt immensely nauseous all of the sudden. She took the pants off, giving up, and stomped back into the bedroom to find something cute, but with elastic.

"Emily, what in god's name are you doing? We have to be there in 20 minutes." Ian griped from the bed where he was laying. "You already changed your shirt 4 times before this, now you're changing your pants?" He asked incredulously.

"Ian. Shut UP! I didn't want to go to this stupid lunch in the first place! Just let me change my goddamn pants!" She demanded. GOD he was so frustrating; it was maddening. Now made plainly aware of her situation, it was if she could feel the hormones swinging. She could feel his stare from across the room on her back. He was pissed and dumbfounded that she was, as her mother would said, "getting a tone," with him. _Well, tough shit. _She thought bitterly as she found a pair of white gaucho cotton pants that matched her shirt. She slipped them on and grabbed the white sandals that were sitting on the edge of the chest at the end of their bed.

"Well, let's go!" She commanded as she slipped the sandals on her feet. He clicked off the TV and walked over to her, hands on his hips.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. His blue eyes piercing into hers, with an interrogative stare.

"Nothing." She grumbled as she grabbed the white multi colored Louis Vuitton purse from the dresser and slipping on her sunglasses so he could not see the emotions pouring from her eyes.

"Nothing? It doesn't sound like nothing." He said following her as she stomped from the bedroom down the hallway.

"Ian I said it's nothing. Let it go! We're gonna be really late as it is." She said throwing her arms in the air.

"I know we are, I'm the one who was reminding you the whole time you were in the bathroom." Ian said sardonically. He was walking a pace behind her, letting her stew in her own pissed off walk. She sighed aggravatededly. Men were such nagging pricks sometimes. Was it any wonder they said Margarita's were a girl's best friend? She made it to the front door without another word from him, before he grabbed her arm. She tried yanking away from him to no avail. He spun her around to face him.

"Emily. Either lose your attitude or tell me what's bothering you. But, I won't have you bitching for no reason." He let go of her arm and pushed the front door open for her. She stared at him for a long moment before sighing and took the hand he offered. He led her to the town car waiting for them and they drove to the restaurant without another word. She thought it best to not say anything; she tried to calm herself down. She had no intention of telling him what was really wrong just yet. Not until she had proof…

They got to the restaurant and had a long leisurely meal with 2 couples Ian was planning on doing business with. They were both Russian men, older, like Ian. With 20-something blonde Russian bombshell wives. Emily was forced to chit chat with these idiotic gold diggers as they chattered on about each other's diamonds and who had a nicer Rolls Royce. Emily rolled her eyes as the girls started a heated argument in hushed Russian about her. Thinking she couldn't understand them they argued about whether or not she was Ian's favorite prostitute. _Probably,_ she snorted. Well, except she wasn't a prostitute per se. She took another long sip of her Iced Tea. She was already on her third one. She was absolutely dying of thirst and no matter how much she wanted one, a Long Island Iced Tea was out of the question…

Finally as the men shook hands laughing, the luncheon was over. Emily felt immensely tired. All she wanted to do was crash onto their big bed and take a nap, but they'd promised to take Declan out on the yacht this afternoon when they got back. Hopefully she could sunbathe on the yacht, and take a small nap in the sun. When they arrived home, Declan came running to greet them, he'd been riding his four wheeler from the looks of it. He was covered in dirt and had leaves sticking in his hair.

"Can we go on the boat now? Please! Please! Please!" He yelled excitedly jumping from the third step up to where they were standing in the foyer.

"Yes, son. We're going to go on the yacht now." Ian said smiling as Declan hugged him. It had taken some getting used to but Declan was really adjusting well to Ian. He'd even started calling him Dad occasionally. Emily couldn't help but smile. She'd tried so hard to hide Declan from Ian and his whole world, but she couldn't help but feel happy for the both of them that things were falling into place. Declan had no idea about Ian's business and Emily wanted it to stay that way forever. She knew Declan well enough to know he hated guns, so she was sure he would never willingly follow in Ian's footsteps, but people change as they grow. She smiled and said she would be right back, she wanted to go put her purse away and change into her bathing suit.

5 minutes later she returned after vomiting yet again and wearing her black one piece bathing suit. She'd opted out of the bikini for obvious reasons. She knew there was no way she was showing yet, but paranoia led her to the one piece.

They spent the rest of the day lounging around on the yacht, Emily got the nap she'd been needing as Ian rubbed sun tan lotion onto her back as he listened to Declan's excited chatter about the ocean, the different fish he knew about, and Finding Nemo which he'd still had yet to watch. As they cruised back into the pier Emily sat up yawning, watching as the sun set against the ocean. It was gorgeous to watch. She leaned unconsciously against Ian's shoulder. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. As she watched the sun go down, she couldn't help but wonder if the Sun was going down on her other life, or Rising up in a new one. She glanced quickly down at her stomach.

What in the world was she supposed to do now? She thought…


	13. Revelations

A/N: I knew y'all were gonna love that chapter. To Molly: You are the best reviewer by far! You give such good encouragement its ridic! To Kat: Oh yes I will most def finish this fic! To Opgyft: Yes there is another sex scene coming… maybe now. You'll just have to read and find out… and as far as rescuing goes, nobody knows she needs rescuing….yet. Muahaha!

Keep the reviews coming they fuel my mojo for this project! Also I love all the rest of you who have reviewed so far, even if I didn't have a chance to mention y'all by name! Muah! XOXO

One WEEK later

"**The cruelest lies are often told in silence"**.

-ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, _Virginibus Puerisque_

Emily had been acting strange for days now. Ian couldn't fathom what could possibly have brought on this new façade but he couldn't help but feel suspicious of her. She'd been so… accommodating lately it was almost unreal. It was like the dreams he'd had of them in prison. Other than the ones that ended in her brutal murder, of course.

Ian sighed. She'd been so loving lately he assumed she wanted something, that had been his experience with women thus far anyways. He wished she knew he would buy her anything she wanted if she would only ask. On the other hand her mood swings had been astronomical. She would be the picture of lovely, one moment, and the next: bawling uncontrollably, screaming and throwing things at him. He'd thought for hours one night after she'd shown her evil side, what he POSSIBLY had done to piss her off. He went over their conversation word by word. He'd come up empty. He'd even offered to get a glass of wine and bring it to her on their private balcony, when she refused, he'd not pushed; he simply poured his own and walked onto the balcony. She as some Americans would say, "flipped the fuck out."

Not only had she started screaming like an uncontrollable banshee, she'd even thrown a glass book end at him. That had been the only time recently he'd laid hands to her, and he hadn't even really hurt her. He'd merely restrained her so she couldn't throw anymore breakable items at him. She'd lain there against the bed faced down as he'd pinned her arms behind her. He waited several minutes for her to calm herself, before glancing down and noticed why she was so still. She'd fallen asleep! He'd let her arms go, gently turned her over and put her to bed. Later when he crawled into bed after cleaning up the glass himself, instead of a housekeeper doing it, she'd snuggled into his chest as if all was good between them. He'd been irritated before, but how could he be with a beautiful woman sleeping, literally, in his arms?

Ian Doyle considered himself a smart man. But there were some things he could not understand. Women to be one of those things… He'd tried talking to her, but she shut him out. She refused to talk about herself. She didn't want to go shopping for herself anymore, saying she didn't like the way she looked in dressing rooms. She tried to spend as much time with Declan as he had been, but she wouldn't do some things like ride 4x Wheelers or any kind of physical activity other than riding her horse or walking. She was tired all time, taking constant naps. He was flummoxed. He would have attributed all of those behaviors with her menses, but he hadn't seen any evidence of that in the wastebasket in the bathroom, although she had been spending in inordinate of time in there.

She'd been trying to act like nothing was wrong, but he heard her crying on the balcony while she thought he was sleeping, or when she was in the bathroom when he was undressing for bed. She wasn't fooling him, he knew her enough to know when something was bothering her. He'd assumed it was because she missed her team….

He didn't know what was wrong with her. Then it hit him. Like the 3 ice cubes hit the bottom of his empty scotch glass. Like a tidal wave. Like Lauren had. She was pregnant. That's what she was hiding. She was lying to him with her silence. She was refusing to accept the truth. She wasn't drinking alcohol anymore, no rough activity outside of their bedroom walls. Always tired. Mood swings. Pregnant. Emily was pregnant. How could she have not said anything to him? He thought angrily. He looked into the bedroom where Emily was sleeping away in the dead center of the bed. He snorted. _Typical._

He walked into bed slipping off his pants and down to his boxers and t-shirt and climbed into bed behind her. He would wait and see how long it would take for her to tell him the truth. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her snugly. He inhaled the lovely smell of her shampoo…Pregnant.


	14. Denial

A/N: Aww thank you guys for your reviews! I'm really sorry about the shortness of the last chapter, maybe this one, idk lol. I'm just exhausted, so I apologize for the shortness, but hey at least it something, right? Anyhoo this chapter is Emily's POV. Oh, are my quotes before each chapter making any sense? Cuz you know, their supposed to…. Lol sometimes I read them and I wonder if they make sense to me and not the reader…idk.. Im kinda crazy if you hadn't noticed…

"**To ****hide**** the key to your heart is to risk forgetting where you placed it.****"**

**Timothy Childers**

Emily paced back and forth biting her nails. Ian was getting on her last nerve. Thank god this bathroom was big enough to pace in. In lieu of a lock, she'd shoved a cushioned chair under the door handle, not that a little chair would stop Ian if he really wanted to get in. She looked again at the stick sitting on the counter. She had to wait 3 minutes and for the last 120 seconds she'd been pacing like a fiending crack addict. Getting this damn test had been the hardest part.

She'd had to BEGGGG Ian to let her walk by herself around the mall when they'd went the other day to go buy some tampons from the pharmacy. She didn't really need tampons as she hadn't had her period this month and likely wouldn't for another 9. She needed something else… Ian had reluctantly handed over his credit card with a warning not to do anything stupid. She just smiled and kissed his cheek before leaving the food court table they'd been sitting at, waiting for Declan to finish his McNuggets.

She'd sprinted practically down the hall to the pharmacy which was thankfully, packed. She grabbed a box of tampons and skillfully opened the lid, without anyone noticing. Putting her finger over the lid to keep it shut she walked to the other aisle and found the baby busting kits. AKA home pregnancy tests. Grabbing the nearest one she opened one grabbed the pee stick, slid it out and inconspicuously slipped it into the tampon box. She then subtlely put the box into her giant Louis Vuitton. AS she pretended to read the directions on the back of the home test box, she put it back on the shelf and meandered her way out of the store without attracting any attention. Thank god her espionage days came in handy for something.

She'd returned to the table handing Ian back his credit card, that she hadn't even needed. Before they left Ian asked where they were, she showed him the box, explaining she'd already taken one out to use. He'd given her this strange look that she had no idea what to make of…

Emily looked back down at the counter. And her heart stopped beating. She was totally, full on, six feet under, dead on…pregnant. PREGNANT. She sank to the floor, gasping a little, feeling like she got the wind knocked out of her. She was so upset she couldn't even breathe, she felt like crying, yet not a tear would fall.

"Emily are you in there?"

She jumped. She knew he would come looking for her after she'd suddenly asked to be excused from the dinner table. They'd been eating salmon and the smell had made her want to vomit. Through her eyeballs. Gross. She'd been trying to act as if nothing was wrong with her, but she could feel herself slipping at times. Times when her hormones got the better of her, or her sense of smell made even the most mellow of aroma's made her throw up. She'd actually thrown up in front of him and Declan the other day after they'd walked into the stable to visit the horses. The smell had been so overwhelming she'd took off running to the edge of the barn door and puked. Ian had seen and insisted she lie down and rest for the remainder of the day. That had been fine with her. All she wanted to do was sleep these days.

"Emily? What's going on in there?" Ian asked, knocking again.

"I'm fine Ian. Go away." She said looking desperately around her for a place to stash the unyielding stick of insanity that sat on the marble counter.

"Emily, whats going on? Are you alright?" Ian asked starting to turn the door knob. Quickly Emily grabbed the stick and threw it into the cupboard under the sink behind the toilet paper rolls.

"Ian I said I'm fine!" She said, breathing heavily. She felt like she was going to be sick again. God, could he never listen to her?

"Emily, open this door."

"Ian please, - I –I need to just shower ok? I don't—I Don't feel well." She stammered frantically. She turned on the shower head hoping that would reinforce her said plan. She was glad she had though, because the next minute she was bent over the toilet vomiting all of her food from the day, or what was left of it anyways… She was hoping the sound of the shower had covered the sound of her retching.

"Emily? Emily?" Ian yelled.

Nope. Shower hadn't worked. Damn it.

Boom! The door came bursting open, chair knocked over in front of it. She was in trouble now. Shit SHIT SHIT.

Ian came bursting in the bathroom, a pissed off and worried look on this face. While, there she was sitting next to the toilet, pale and dehydrated.

"Emily what are you doing?" Ian said loudly.

"I'm fine, just had some bad clam chowder for lunch." She said hugging the toilet.

"Emily you didn't eat clam chowder for lunch." Ian said towering over her, still shouting.

"Ian I-"

"Why don't you just tell me Emily?"

"Tell you what?" She said, starting to panic. How did he know! _How could he not know?_ A voice in her head said sarcastically.

"Dammit Emily, enough with the lies!" He yelled, throwing a box of Kleenex across the room. She flinched instinctively, even though he hadn't actually thrown them at her. She leaned her head on the toilet seat exhausted. Still she remained silent.

Ian knealt down in front of her grabbing her chin and looking her in the eyes. He knows. She thought miserably.

"Emily." He said firmly.

She looked back at him, and said nothing. She refused to say it out loud. Because once she did, it was true. She pursed her lips together and avoided his icy gaze.

He sighed in disgust and roughly let go of her face before he put his fist through the wide bathroom mirror, yelling in rage and stomping from the bathroom, slamming the broken door behind him.

Emily cried out as shattered glass fell all over the floor. She stayed huddled to her spot next to the toilet, and finally began to cry. Why couldn't she have just told him? Because admitting the truth was more scary than all of this.


	15. Rekindled

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews on this last chapter! I think it's the most a single chapter has gotten so far so I'm stoked! Anyways, to answer some questions: Yes Declan will be in more in the upcoming chapters. As for Emily being found, I have no idea yet. Because as of this moment she is n leave of absence so no one knows she is missing… There WILL be funnier aspects to their relationship, but I am trying to keep it as true to character (from the show) as I can. That being said Ian is considered a Parasitic? Psychopath, and they aren't really known for their good humor. LOL anyways onto the next chapter! Ian's POV.

"**People are where they are because that is exactly where they really want to be, whether they will ****admit**** that or not.****"**

**Earl Nightingale**

Ian stared at the tiny woman hiding in the corner by the toilet. He couldn't believe she was being so stubborn. She'd tried to hide this long enough. Why wouldn't she just tell him? He crouched down in front of her. He grabbed her chin forcing her to look at him. She looked pale, dehydrated almost sickly. She wasn't eating hardly anything. She had sweat running off her in waves, her black bangs sticking to her forehead.

"Emily." He said firmly

She looked back at him weakly, averting her eyes. She knew he knew and the ruse was up. But still she said nothing. This is why she had made an excellent spy. Even in the face of any torture she would stand her ground and say nothing. Well this was not the time for that. All he wanted to do was help her. Hold her hair back for her, but she was in such denial she wouldn't let him in. _Well that's just bloody fine_. He thought bitterly before letting go of her face roughly.

He yelled in anger and frustration and put his knuckles through the wide rectangular mirror above the sinks. He heard her scream as the glass shattered around them before he stomped angrily from the steaming hot bathroom.

He growled in frustration. He'd been working so hard to control his temper. Make her trust him again. He'd been spending as much time with Declan as he could. He'd been trying to do everything right. He knew she was still upset that he was in the business that had brought them together in the first place, but what was he to do?

He poured himself a stiff glass of Jameson, wrapped a towel around his bleeding knuckles and went and sat on the balcony. Declan had gone to his room after dinner to play video games. Ian took a large gulp of his drink and looked out onto the ocean.

He was worried this was going to turn into another Chloe situation, ad he didn't want that for her. There had to be another way. He had to make her think that keeping this baby was her idea, instead of forcing her. He didn't think she would try to kill herself or have another abortion, but he wasn't sure she wanted it. She'd stated several times that she hadn't. After what had seemed like hours she emerged from the bathroom, he didn't even have to turn around, he knew she was lurking in the doorway watching him. He could tell she was opening her mouth and no sound was coming out. She wanted desperately to say something, but something was stopping her. She didn't want to be the first to admit what he already knew to be true.

"So when were you going to tell me, Love?" He said roughly, taking another sip from his large round glass.

She stuttered for a moment he could tell. She was trying to figure out what to say, how best to say it. Finally from behind him came her voice, quiet and unsteady.

"Ho-How long have you known?" She asked walking, around to sit on the end of the setee he was lounging on.

"A while." Was all he said in reply. He wanted to say as little as possible. He wanted this to be HER conversation.

"Oh… Ian I—I wanted to tell you, I well, I wasn't even sure until… until tonight. I'm just—Im just so scared Ian. What if I'm a horrible mother? What –What if it doesn't like me?" She said starting to cry. Ian looked at her in shock. He'd been expecting something about not wanting it to be his or having to do with this lifestyle, or to that effect. He took a final gulp of his whiskey before he set the glass down on the coffee table in front of him. He took a long look at her, staring at him with her big brown eyes, full of tears. And he could feel his anger subsiding slowly. She was an angel. Slowly he took her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his and cried and cried in his lap. He petted her hair and rubbed her back as she sobbed uncontrollably. He didn't say a word for a long time. He needed to hear that she was okay with having his child before he fully opened his heart. He didn't want to be hurt by her rejection of their child.

"Ian?" She sniffed

"Yes, Love?"

"Are you still mad at me?" She asked. He rolled his eyes, she always asked this question.

"No, Love, I'm not angry with you."

"You're not?" She sniffled wiping her nose.

"No… I'm just disappointed you wouldn't tell me." He said quietly.

"I'm sorry." She said, almost in a whisper. "I didn't know what to say…"

"Emily. Do you want to have this baby?" Ian asked slowly, preparing himself for a bone crushing rejection.

Silence.

He closed his eyes in pain. He knew thi—

"Yes."

His eyes flashed open, sure he had misheard.

"Pardon?" He asked.

"Yes…I want to have the baby…" She said breathing heavily, like she had run a full length marathon. She realized the commitment she was entering into. He hadn't even noticed he'd been holding them in, but he felt a lone tear escape the corner of his eye. She rolled over onto her back and looked up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and she looked almost ghostly in the moonlight, her black brown hair tousled all around her, but to Ian Doyle she'd never looked more beautiful.

He scooped her up in his arms and felt her wrap her arms around his neck as he carried her to their bed. He laid her down gently, before crawling on top of her. He moved the hair from beside her neck and left his kisses all up and down the side of it, before moving to her lips. Her lips were warm and inviting, opening her mouth to let their tongues twist together in passion. His hands found hers and they intertwined their fingers, as he pinned them above her head. She arched her back in wanting. Ian happily obliged, letting go of her hands, he moved down to her waist leaving kisses on her stomach caressing her milky white scar. Slowly and skillfully he took her pants off using his teeth before using his tongue to pleasure her, while her hands dug into his shoulders…

Soon she was begging him to have her and he did. He whispered her name in her ear as he came and he felt her legs tighten around his waist. He slid off of her and laid beside her wrapping his arms around her naked body. He kissed the top of her head as she snuggled against him. They fell asleep together just enjoying the moment. His hand rested on her bare stomach and the last thought he remembered before falling into a blissful sleep was _our baby_…


	16. Garcia

A/N: Eeep! Thanks for the reviews guys… I can't believe y'all are still reading this! I have SOOOO many ideas so be prepared for like a 400 Chapter story…just sayin lol. Emily's POV btw…

_3 Months Later_

Love is all fun and games until someone loses an eye or gets pregnant.

~Jim Cole

Emily stood defiant. She was not going to give in on this one. She'd begged Ian for weeks and weeks and he'd promised to think about it. There was nothing to think about she was going to have her way or he was never going to hear the end of it.

"Absolutely not."

"Yes."

"Emily we are not putting a Koi pond in the baby's room…"

"Ian it's peaceful! It's meant to relax the baby! Plus there's a cute little fence around it, so they can't fall in!"

"Emily it's ridiculous. He's not even going to know what they are!" Ian said throwing his arms in the air.

She huffed, her bangs going every which way. It'd been 3 months and her being as thin as she was, she was already starting to show a tiny bit. Her morning sickness had finally began to subside and her and Ian had begun planning for the baby's arrival. They didn't know what the gender was yet, but Emily was dead set on a rain forest-y tropical theme, including a koi pond, rock garden and little fountain. Ian had been more than accommodating and thus far she'd gotten everything she'd wanted. She admitted only to herself that she was putting him through the ringer. He deserved it though, after everything had happened between them. He could sweat a little.

"Fine!" She yelled. "Whatever Ian… Well, what about the other thing then?" She said coyly. She'd quit officially from the BAU taking an early retirement from Strauss. She told Hotch and the team she'd met someone in Barbados and they'd gotten married. The team was shocked, upset at first, but understood she was safe, alive, and happy. Who were they to take that away? She'd kept in touch with JJ and Garcia mostly and had asked if Garcia could come and keep her company while he was away in Ireland next month. Originally she'd asked for JJ and Morgan, but Ian had flat out refused. He wanted those profilers no where near, but when she'd asked if Garcia could come, he'd said he'd consider it.

Ever since she'd been on her best behavior, hadn't back talked him, done everything he'd asked which wasn't much. She'd pointed out that it would be better for her to have some company she knew while he was away. He'd smart ass-edly told her maybe she should invite her mother. Emily had just stared at him in incredulity and asked if he wanted her to commit suicide while he was a continent away. That had been the wrong thing to say…Obviously. He hadn't spoken to her for 2 days. She looked at him now, her big brown eyes pleading. She also had pointed out that Declan knew Garcia and had stayed with her and was good friends with her and Garcia missed him dearly. She could see his brain working, wheels turning. On one hand he knew it would make her ridiculously happy; something he had no qualms with… On the other he had barely started to trust her, and to bring a member of her former team to the Villa, their own Fortress of Solitude, was taking a big risk.

What was she going to do? She'd already quit her job and was 4 almost 5 months pregnant with his baby… What did he think she would do run off and leave him and take the baby? Even she wasn't that cruel. The only reason she'd hidden Declan was from INTERPOL because she knew what they would do to him to get Ian to talk.

"Pleaaaaaasssse, Ian? It would mean so much to me. I'll be so lonely while you're gone. Plus it's not like you won't have eyes on us the entire time you're gone anyways!" She pouted. Ian clenched his jaw.

"Emily do you know the risk I will be taking here? Everything I've worked to hide could be destroyed in a heartbeat. Do you understand me? If I agree—" He was cut off by her squeal of excitement as she lunged at him to hug him.

"Thank you Thank you Thank you!" She cried kissing him on the cheek.

"Emily, I mean it. DO not say a WORD. About anything. Declan will have to be told as well. She must not know anything about me, understood?" He said, hands on his hips… He was going to regret this he knew.

"I know I know! I'm gonna go call her right now, K?" She said getting up and running away to find his cell phone he'd left laying on the end table next to the couch. She was so excited she couldn't even breathe. Garcia was coming. She felt like a giddy school girl, not a grown woman, pregnant as all get out.

30 minutes later she re-emerged onto the patio where Ian was now sitting with a mojito in his hand.

"Garcia said she could come next week and stay all month. So I told her we'd book her flight for the day after you leave." She said enthusiastically.

"Wait, what?" Ian sputtered. "We're booking her flight?" He asked stupidly.

"Well, yeah…" Emily said matter-of-factly, rolling her eyes. "Ian it's not like you don't have the money!" She said gesturing around her at the ginormous estate. He rolled his eyes back at her, sipping on his mojito. She sat back on the lounge chair putting her hand on her stomach. _Maybe this relationship will work out after all… _She thought.

But as she looked up at the night sky, counting the stars and minutes until Garcia arrived, a nagging thought occurred to her that this just may be the calm before the storm…


	17. Preparation

A/N: Thanks to all of you who reviewed this chapter. Also if you guys have any questions or genuine concerns about the story, feel free to PM me, I don't mind answering questions. I just want as many people to continue reading as possible. I feel like I should explain parts of the story to everyone now like I did for someone who emailed me yesterday, but Idk it feels kind of like I would be going on a rant or something and I don't wanna do that. So really, if you have problems or questions about the story just email me, I will be more than happy to answer. I WANT you guys to like it okay? Love to all of y'all that reviewed again! Muah!

_**After every storm the sun will smile; for every problem there is a solution, and the soul's indefeasible duty is to be of good cheer**_.  
><strong>William R. Alger<strong>

Ian walked out of the house purposefully to the barn where Emily stood with Declan petting Buddha, his horse. Emily was close to 5 months pregnant and despite whatever problems they had with each other, seemed to have a distinct glow about her. He had initially worried what this pregnancy would do to their already tumultuous relationship. Throwing in his temper, and her now raging hormones it had the potential for a downright shit storm.

However, the pregnancy that she'd been so dreading her whole life, seemed to have reassured her. She had told him honestly that while she would never approve of what he did, she was no longer looking for the nearest opportunity to bolt. She seemed to believe now what he'd known for seven years. They belonged together, even if they hated each other. The baby now gave her yet another reason to stay besides Declan, who wasn't even hers. They'd talked in great detail about how even if she was to ever leave, she'd always have a child with him now, she could never again pretend like his part of her life had never existed. There was proof, living proof.

Not that he would ever let her leave, but he felt slightly more reassured that she didn't want to. At least for the moment... And that was fine with him… Saving that worry for another day and time, he marched into the stable and strode up to her. Right now he had another matter to discuss with her and that was the lovely Penelope's arrival in 3 days. He'd arranged for a "body guard" aka chaperone for them whenever they were to leave the estate. The internet was shut off; so that there was no chance Penelope could dig deeper into Emily's mystery man while she was here.

They'd concocted a semi-believable story, easy enough for Declan to remember and stick to. That was the most worrisome part to Ian, was that Declan to mention him by name or contradict the story Emily had told Garcia. Declan had started calling him Dad with more frequency now. Ian believed they were truly starting to bond and so far he'd not lost his temper with Declan.

Emily on the other hand, was trying to test his patience intentionally he believed. Every day was something new, and there were days he thought he would have gladly killed her when he'd had the chance. He knew she'd always been headstrong, opinionated, almost like an alpha female. That's why she'd been so good at law enforcement. However when combined with his temper and personality was like living in a powder keg and throwing off sparks. He knew some of it was the pregnancy and he'd tried his damndest to not lay a hand to her if he could help it. He didn't want to do anything to jeopardize her pregnancy. She'd done her best to test his limitations. If he said no, she said yes. She knew if there was ever a time to get away with murder the time was now…

"Emily we need to talk about this weekend." He said striding over to where she was chattering excitedly with Declan about something or other.

"What about it?" She said carelessly, tossing her straight black hair away from her face.

"We need to go over the plan again. Make sure everything is understood." He said pointedly. He'd already told her there was to be absolutely no reckless behavior, just because he wasn't around to watch her. She was responsible for Declan while he was gone; and he would be watching her and her friend…

"Okayyy…" She said quizzically. She couldn't understand why this couldn't wait until later, but his flight had been moved up to tomorrow morning instead of afternoon, so they needed to iron out some details now.

They walked aways from Declan who stood brushing Buddha unconcernedly, while his "parents" talked seriously.

"So what do we need to talk about?" She said once they were out of earshot.

"My flight's been changed. It's at 7:00 am." He said roughly, clearing his throat.

"What? I thought it was like, at 4 or something…" She said worriedly. She wasn't happy he was leaving due to the nature of this trip. Not that she was all that crazy about his constant presence, but at least when he was here she knew he wasn't hurting anyone or being hurt himself.

"It was. Anyways, are you and Declan both clear on the story?" He asked folding his arms across his chest looking at her seriously.

"Yes, Declan just told me exactly what you told him last night. He's to only refer to you as Dad while Garcia is here, and your name isn't Ian, it's Isaac Farrell and you are in the oil business. Hence, Dubai, but we met at the hotel in Barbados." She said tiredly. She'd only had to repeat this a million and one times, but he'd told her that was the only condition of Garcia coming. She was not to find out about him, no matter what. Not only would they try to take him and put him away for good, but if there was nothing they could do about him, because after all he was "dead"; they would definitely try and take Emily and the baby away.

Declan understood the seriousness of the situation and being a 12 year old boy, the anticipation of a new brother or sister was a very big deal and he took his new responsibility as an older brother VERY seriously.

"Correct, now: Emery will be escorting you ladies wherever you go outside these walls am I understood?" He said pointing a finger at her to emphasize his point. He wasn't fucking around.

"Yes, but I highly doubt we'll need him, there's plenty to do here…" She started, but he interrupted.

"I don't care. I'm not risking something happening to you or my child, while I'm away. And I'll be calling every night, to say goodnight to you and Declan." He handed her an encrypted Blackberry. "This has my number programmed into it. If you need ANYTHING. You call me immediately. Understood?" He said.

"Yeah, Ian… Don't you think you're going a little overboard here? I mean it's not like I'm going to be doing anything dangerous while you're gone…" She said jokingly.

"Emily, trouble follows you like a bloody magnet." He said with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey! Most of the trouble I've been in the last year or 2 has been thanks to you!" She said with an indignant pout.

"Exactly, and now that we're together that trouble could increase ten-fold, you know." He said pointedly.

"Okay well, we'll all be fine, I promise. Scout's honor." She said, rubbing her tummy. He looked at her puzzled.

"Scout's honor?" He asked. Clearly there was some American idiom he was missing.

"Yeah, like Girl Scouts? Boy Scouts?" She said.

"Emily I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, chuckling. Wrapping his arm around her waist they walked back over to Declan who was looking at them intently.

"So who wants to go out for dinner before I leave?" Ian asked looking at the two of them.

"Me! Me!" Declan said jumping down the step stair he'd been standing on.

Walking out one hand around Emily's waist, the other tousling Declan's hair, the three of them walked towards the town car in the circle drive, Ian couldn't help the nagging thought in his head that told him this whole scenario was a bad idea. A very bad idea…


	18. Reunion

A/N: Ok I had an epiphany at work this morning, and I decided that Emily needs to be a little more Emily and I had an idea on how to UP the drama level without the same old shit different toilet, if you pardon my phrase. So yeah, here is the long awaited Garcia chapter! : ) Might be 2 Chapters today btw, so be on the Lookout!

"_**A friendship can weather most things and thrive in thin soil; but it needs a little mulch of letters and phone calls and small, silly presents every so often - just to save it from drying out completely."**____**  
><strong>__**Pam Brown**_

Emily paced back and forth nervously in the large empty foyer. Ian had left yesterday morning and so far nothing eventful had happened. But today, today was different. Today was Garcia's date of arrival. Emily had not slept a wink last night due to excitement and nerves. She hadn't told anyone from the BAU that she was pregnant, and she wasn't quite sure how Garcia was going to take it.

She looked up suddenly she heard the crunch of little rocks in the brick driveway under the tires of the black car that pulled in front of the drive. She was originally planning on meeting Garcia at the airport, but Declan had awoke with a fever and ear ache. She assumed it was Swimmer's Ear from his frequent trips to the pool and ocean. So she had opted to stay home, instead sending a car for Garcia with a message.

She bolted out the front door and onto the giant stone stairway that led down the drive. She watched in angst as the car door opened and a blonde head with a giant purple bedazzled flower pinned to the side emerged. Screaming in excitement she dashed down the stairs and ran into Garcia's waiting arms. They were both crying within seconds and exchanged heartfelt hellos.

Hugging for what seemed like hours, Emily wiped her eyes, sniffling and welcomed Garcia into the house.

"My god Emily! This house is gi-gasmic!" Exclaimed Garcia, mouth gaping as she looked up towards the high cathedral ceilings and massive grand staircase.

"Yeah, just wait til you see the view. The baby's room is gonna have a great view too." She said slyly, wondering how long it would take Garcia to pick up on what she said.

"Oh I can imagin—WAIT WHAT?" She squealed, hands immediately waving in frantic excitement.

"Yeah, 4-5 months from now there might be a little Penelope running around this massive place," she said sticking her tongue out.

"My god, Emily. This is huge! First you run off, then you get MARRIED, now your preggers?" Garcia breathed, still fanning herself, like she was going to pass out from shock.

"Yeah, it's a lot to take in…" Emily chuckled awkwardly, not really sure what to say to that.

"Uh, hells yeah!" Garcia laughed. "Alright, Now. I want a tour, and I must see my golden haired angel child soon, or I might just die!" She commanded playfully.

"Okay, yeah, let's go see Declan, and then I'll give you the grand tour." Emily said waving her towards the grand staircase. They walked to Declan's room, Garcia chatting emphatically telling her all the newest gossip of the BAU and all the goings on she'd missed. Emily felt pangs in her heart at the mention of her other friends, her family. She felt a twinge of guilt for how she'd left. It felt like she'd faked her death all over again, except, this time they knew she was alive and well. She just missed them, and they her; according to Garcia.

They walked into Declan's room and Garcia smothered him with hugs and kisses and gawked at the awesome entertainment set-up of his room. Declan wasn't really up for a lot of company at the moment, so they promised to come back in a little while to catch up some more after he'd rested.

So they meandered the open hallways and Garcia brought up the topic Emily had been surprised the first thing out of her mouth.

"So, Em, SPILL! Tell me all about him!" She gushed, grabbing Emily's arm for dear life. Emily blushed. She'd been dreading this moment from the moment Ian had said Garcia could come.

"Well, his name's Isaac, Isaac Farrell." Emily started…

"Oh my God. Emily Farrell! How cute!" She blurted out.

"Yeah, yeah, He uh, He works in the oil business. That's why we moved here. His company is based here in Dubai." She explained.

"Wow, oil? Emily Prentiss marrying rich into the big oil business!" She teased.

"Yeah, it's not so exciting. I hardly ever leave the house except to shop. Which, you know how I feel about that…" She said rolling her eyes.

"He sounds so great! You have everything a girl could ever want!" Garcia said.

"Yeah, it's pretty great," Emily said evasively. She really did not want to keep talking about Ian. She could feel Garcia wanting more info though, and she couldn't really blame her, but the less information she gave about Ian, the better.

Emily showed her the pool, walked her down to the barn showing her the horses, and eventually they made their way down to the beach. Walking on the pier, they talked about Garcia's relationship with Kevin, JJ and Will and baby Henry, Reid and Morgan, Hotch and Jack, and of course the mysterious David Rossi.

They laughed so hard they cried, they swapped stories and had drinks on the beach, virgin for her. They ate dinner in Declan's room with him, and played video games with him until his medicine kicked in, making him sleepy. They left, shutting the door quietly behind them. Garcia let out a small yawn, and Emily knew she was probably dead tired after such a long flight. She showed Garcia to the guest room right next to the master bedroom, a bright lilac colored room with a very girly canopy bed with flowy white curtains and gorgeous white orchids from the gardens below the adjoining balcony.

"My god this room is beautiful Emily!" Garcia breathed in awe.

"We had them decorate it just for you; I know how much you love bright colors. I figured white walls might drive you nuts." Emily said grinning leaning against the door frame.

"You had them do this just for me?" Garcia asked in shock.

"Yeah, it was no big deal. We wanted to see how this color looked anyways for a girl if we have one." Emily said breezily, waving her hand.

"My god Emily, this is amazing." She said.

"I'm glad you like it!" Emily said beaming happily.

"Like it? I absolutely freaking Love it!"

"Good, just uh, come wake me up, in the morning, you know if I'm not up before you k? If I'm up though, I'll be in the dining room. You remember where that is right?" Emily said motioning downstairs.

"Yeah, yeah, I think I can find it." Garcia said, offhandedly, smiling.

"Alright, 'Night Garcia."

"Goodnight Em." She said as Emily made to shut the door behind her.

"Hey, Em?" Garcia said suddenly.

"Yeah, hon?"

"I really missed you…"

"I missed you too." Emily said with a sad smile, closing the door behind her. She sighed in relief. This had been a long, emotional day but she was so relieved to see that her friendship with Garcia had survived.

She jumped out of her skin when she felt her back pocket vibrate. Ian. She thought… Damn she was jumpy. She felt a sense of unease with him being gone as she entered their bedroom, before answering.

"Hello?" She said.

"Hello Love." His deep Irish brogue came from the other line. It was odd, but after seven years his voice still made the hair on the back of her neck stand up in a weird way. It wasn't in fear, more like a sensual way.

"How's your trip?" She asked. Not that she really cared. She had told him she didn't even want to know what he was doing in Ireland, because she wouldn't support his going for anything less than legal business, so he might as well not even tell her.

"It's going very well." He said wryly, he knew she didn't care. "How's Declan?"

"He's sick. He woke up with it." She said. She knew he'd freak out when she told him.

"What? What'd wrong with him?" Ian asked concernedly.

"No, Ian, calm down. It's just a little ear infection. In America we call it Swimmer's Ear. It just means he got too much water in his ears. It'll go away with some medication. I had the concierge doctor already prescribe him some stuff." She said reassuringly.

"Oh…" He said, clearly relieved. "How're you feeling? How's the baby?" He asked again.

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm a little tired…Garcia got here this morning and I didn't sleep well last night." She said, yawning.

"Emily. You promised you would take it easy. You need your rest." Ian reprimanded.

"I know, I know. I was just about to crash anyways. Garcia just went to bed." She said placating him.

"Emily, don't make me worry about you while I'm gone. Get some sleep, I'll talk to you tomorrow." Ian said sternly.

"Okay, hey, make sure you call tomorrow during the day or evening, Declan wants to say hi." She said wanly.

"I will. Goodnight, Love…"

"Goodnight Ian." She said. She hung up the phone and held the phone against her chin for a moment. Despite her joy of Garcia being here, Ian being gone left her with this feeling of unease. His presence brought a feeling of safety, even though most of the time she'd needed saved it was from him. She crawled into bed and clutched Ian's pillow, looking out the French doors… She couldn't help but feel like even with all the staff, Garcia, Declan, she felt very very alone…


	19. Gone

A/N: Sorry guys, I know I didn't updated yesterday, Im like oober sick soo.. Anywaays Her is your next chapter! First part is Emily's POV, 2nd is Garcia's

**"Life is just one damned thing after another."**  
>- Elbert Hubbard<p>

**3 WEEKS LATER**

** E**mily smiled again for what seemed like the billionth time in 3 days. She hadn't laughed or smiled this much in a very long time. Living with Ian was like living with a ticking time bomb, just when you thought that the bomb was a dud, it would explode. Her, Garcia, and Declan were in the large department store looking at the clothing sections. Garcia had insisted on going shopping at least one more time before her sad departure next week.

"How do I look?" Garcia said stepping out of the dressing room. She'd found a gorgeous hot pink and black and white desk, with a little black jacket to match.

"Very sexy," Emily said winking at her.

"Good, I always need to look good for my statuesque god of dark chocolate wonder-boy," she said seductively.

"Ahhh I'm sure Morgan will love it." Emily said chuckling.

"Ahh yes, I'm sure he will." Garcia said confidently striking a flashy pose in front of the large mirror. Emily glanced over her shoulder. She'd asked Emery to take Declan over to the boys department to pick out some hoodies to wear at night or out on the yacht. He'd been hesitant at first to leave them alone, but Emily pointed out that there was a clear view of the women's dressing room from the boys section.

"Alright my turn!" Emily said rushing forward as Garcia came back out dressed in her original outfit of a chunky neon purple knit sweater dress, with lime green patent leather pumps.

"Alrighty, Princess Emily," Garcia said taking a dramatic seat right outside the dressing room. Emily rolled her eyes. Garcia insisted on calling her "Princess Emily" whenever she got the chance now. She said Emily's new life was about as close to a fairytale as any of their team would ever get, and she was just glad Emily was happy.

Emily walked back into the dressing room; she tried all the rooms until she found an empty one at the end of the short hallway, right next to a service entrance or stock room of some kind. Emily thought that was a little odd. She'd never seen one inside a dressing room before. She began changing into the maternity dress she'd picked out. She wasn't nearly big enough for the belly part yet, but she wanted to see how it looked on. It was a simple black and white zig-zagged striped maxi dress, nice and stretchy, very comfortable. She was thinking about how she wasn't quite a fan of dresses in the beginning but, she knew that slipping a stretchable giant dress when you're nine months pregnant would be a lot easier than trying to squeeze herself into whatever pants she would eventually end up buying…

She turned away from the door only for a moment when she heard the door open, "Garcia wai—" She started but was cut short as a strong male hand grabbed her and held a white cloth to her mouth… "Help, help helllllllp" she tried to yell but they came out as quiet slurred unintelligible sounds. She felt her body being lifted in this giant man's arm and then everything went black… _HELP! _Her mind screamed frantically as she sunk into black oblivion.

Garcia tapped her foot impatiently, _Boy she's sure been in there for a long time_, she thought. _Maybe she needs help with a zipper or something_… She stood up, grabbing her purse.

"Emily?" She called out, looking around. All of the stalls appeared to be empty now. She walked to the end of the short hallway to the only closed door. She knocked on the door, "Emily? Emily are you in there?" She asked worriedly. No answer. Garcia began to panic. Shakily she opened the unlocked door, Emily's clothes were laying on the floor scattered around, her purse sitting on the bench. Garcia quickly looked out again into the hallway there wasn't another entrance that the general public had access to. Plus, she'd been sitting right out front. There was no way Emily had walked past her, and no one else had entered after Emily. A few women had left, but no one else had entered.

Garcia began to hyperventilate. Oh my god, oh my god oh my god! She freaked. She immediately dove into Emily's purse and found the Blackberry that she'd seen Emliy use only a handful of times. The number one on the speed dial read "Isaac." Dialing, her hands shook, and a sudden though popped into her mind, what about Declan? Was He safe? She grabbed Emily's purse and clothes and clutched the phone to her ear for dear life. Please pick up, please pick up! She thought in a panic. Finally, she heard a male voice come over the line.

"Emily, what do you want? I'm in the midd—"

"Sir, Sir this isn't Emily. It's Penelope. Penelope Garcia" She clarified, trying to stay calm as she ran out of the dressing room, to find Declan.

"Penelope? Where's Emily?" He asked, confused.

"Sir, Isaac I mean. She's gone! I can't find her, she, she just went into the dressing room and she never came out! Her clothes and purse were still on the ground! She's gone!" Garcia cried, fanning herself to keep her make-up from running.

"What?" He yelled. " Where's Declan?" He asked with a forced calm.

"He's here, He was with Emery, they were looking at clothes just a few feet away from us! I see them they're right here, but Emily's gone!" She insisted.

"Where are you?" He asked.

"The Dubai Mall," she said trying to be calm.

"Okay, have Emery take you back to the house, immediately. I'll be there shortly." He said without another word. Garcia shook as the line went dead. She ran over as fast as her 4 inch platform pumps would allow, to where Emery stood silently as Declan perused the selection of hoodies they carried.

"Guys we have to go! We have to go now!" She cried, "Emily's missing!" She didn't know how else to put it, but she felt a horrible sensation flood her, as she watched Declan's face. He was terrified, he turned ghostly white and started to cry. She felt horrible. She didn't want him to worry.

"Did you call my dad?" He almost whispered, staring past her shoulder into space. He was paralyzed with fear and worry.

"I called Isaac, he said he's on his way home now, that he'd be here soon." She said quickly. "He said we need to get back to the house immediately though," she said holding out her hand to Declan as Emery rushed them through the crowded store and out the door to the car.

Declan didn't say a word the whole way home. When they arrived he ran straight upstairs to his bedroom. Garcia didn't know what to do. The internet didn't work here and she wasn't quite sure how to get it up and running, but she felt absolutely powerless without her techie gadgets and her computer screens to help find Emily.

She went to the kitchen to make some tea to calm her nerves and wait for Isaac. His voice had sounded almost familiar to her, but she couldn't place it. She was panicking, _what about the baby? What was going to happen to the both of them? Why would someone do this to Emily? _She sat down on the cushion in the bay window next to the table and stared out at the ocean. _Hang in there Emily, We'll find you both_… It had been almost an hour now… She wondered how long it would take for Isaac to get here. Emily had said he'd gone to Europe, but she'd never said where, specifically.

She hunkered down in the little alcove, now there was nothing she could do but wait…

_Hurry Isaac_… She thought desperately as she looked out at the tide coming onto the white sand…_Hurry_…


	20. Mercenary

A/N: Hey guys sorry it's been so long since my last post. This flu really kicked my ass. But, it gave me a chance to decide who I really wanted the villain of this part to be. THIS CHAPTER IS DARK… DEFINITELY rated M… Also any translation I used will PROBABLY be wrong. Fair warning, I used google translator and we all know how accurate THAT can be. Lol. Annnnyways I know you really don't care about this part so how about the story?

"Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength."

August Wilson quotes (American Writer, 1945-2005)

Emily awoke in a blinding white light. So bright it washed out the room, she could not see anything beyond it. She held a hand up to block the glaring white light from her view, only to find her hand was shaking and there appeared to be 3 of them. She looked at it in confusion. She didn't know where she was, her mind felt lost in a hazy ocean of uncertainty. She felt high. Trying to sit up, she shivered and looked down at her arm. There was a hole with a tiny drop of dried blood in the crook of her elbow. There was a pain between her legs she couldn't place. She wanted to call out, but her words she couldn't put in order. She couldn't remember where the last place she had been. Propping her elbow under her, she immediately felt the cold concrete under it. It was cold, but she was almost sweating. Giving up she laid back down on the hard floor in defeat. She would try again later. She closed her eyes to the white light and faded back into oblivion.

A woman watched carefully from outside the concrete room. She smiled evilly as the bitch tried to sit up and failed, before passing out again. She'd been in and out of consciousness for 3 days now. The heroine she'd been injected with kept her complacent and hazed. She'd been drugged, physically and sexually assaulted. She had no idea where she was or what was happening. And, given the level of heroine she'd ingested over the last 3 days, she couldn't even remember the last place she'd been. Slowly, the woman stood up and left the room with the surveillance cameras. It was time to give that whore her injection of nutrients and saline. She couldn't stay awake long enough to eat or drink anything, but it was important to keep her alive. Ian Doyle would pay dearly to get her back. If he could ever figure out who had her in the first place…

Emily slowly opened her eyes; she felt a warm body near her, lifting her arm up before she felt a stinging pain, followed by an immediate flood of ecstasy. She felt her mind play a vivid hallucination in front of her eyes. She was running with a little blonde girl, about 4 years old in a field, laughing and calling out at the two boys behind them, one big and older, one smaller, and younger. She knew them, but that was all she knew. She couldn't name them or the little girl holding her hand. But she felt comforted seeing their smiling faces. Hazily she knew deep inside her, the little girl was her unborn child. Friendly, warm, loving; that was how she imagined them… She looked at the older man, his blue eyes piercing into hers, trying to tell her something. She stared at her hallucination intently, _What? What am I supposed to know? Who are you_? And suddenly as he reached out, he touched the thin white four leaf clover scarred on her chest, and she remembered... _Ian_. She thought. Where was he?

She looked around, trying to see past the vision splayed in front of her. She saw bodies; three of them moving around. Dark, tall shapes, and one smaller one. She heard voices, garbled and distorted. She didn't recognize any of them. She didn't see Ian. Where was he? What was happening to her? She felt weak and hazy, but she needed to concentrate. She was in trouble, this much she felt. Deep in her heart she knew something was very, very wrong. She concentrated on the voices. There were low voices, and a softer, higher pitched voice. Singular. One high voice_, a woman_… She thought. She didn't know where she was. She looked around again, this time focusing on her surroundings. Cement walls and floor. Cold, damp…a basement? Bunker? Warehouse? She didn't know, she couldn't tell. Her hallucination danced in front of her vision, growing brighter, more vivid. She felt frustrated. She couldn't see past it. She needed to SEE, dammit! She tried to wave her hand, trying to swat the images floating in front of her like ghosts.

Finally, one of the figures approached her. A woman with red hair knelt, next to her. Emily looked at her in confusion. She'd never seen this woman before in her life. She was sure of it! She squinted at the woman, as the woman said her name firmly.

"Hello, Emily Prentiss."

Emily was confused again. No one even knew where she'd been. No one had used her real name in a very, very long time… Her instinct told her to deny it. Whatever they wanted with Emily Prentiss was not good. Maybe she could convince them she was not who she knew she was…

"Nno-o. Je m'appelle Emmeline Farrell!" She stuttered in broken French. She had no idea what she was really saying. Her mind could barely understand the English her thoughts were in, let alone trying to speak in another language.

"No. Emily, you, my dear are Emily Prentiss. Or, maybe you prefer to be called Lauren?" The mystery woman said with a heavy accent. Russian? Irish? German? Emily's mind screamed to try and focus. Lauren? Who was this woman? How did she know who Lauren was?

"Qui êtes-vous?" Emily asked. She needed to know who this woman was…

"Speak English Emily. It won't do you any good to pretend… I know alllll about you." She woman said with an evil smile.

Emily mustered up all the strength she had to put behind her words. "Who the fuck are you?" She demanded. She was beginning to feel tired, aggravated. She was done playing games.

"Oh, I'm nobody. But you, my dear. You are crucial to my plans… I believe you knew my brother." She said slowly.

_Brother? _Emily thought angrily. "Cut the crap. I don't know you, or your fucking brother!" She bit out angrily. This woman was crazy, and Emily was starting to feel a flood of adrenaline pump through her exhausted body.

"Oh, yes I believe you do. Or did, I should say. He's dead now. Thanks to you." The woman said calculatingly, gauging her reaction.

_Thanks to me_? Emily was furious. She couldn't remember anything. How was she supposed to know WHO the hell this crazy bitch was talking about?

"I don't know what you're talking about…" She said tiredly. She was getting tired of this woman, and her nauseating perfume that was assaulting her hyper aware sense of smell.

"Do you remember a man named Ian Doyle?" The woman asked slowly.

_Yes_… "No."

"Emily, don't lie. It's unbecoming."

"Fuck you!" Emily yelled.

"Thanks to you, my brother died. Working for that man, that was obsessing about little old you… For seven years."

Emily stopped. Whoever this man was, he'd worked for Ian… Long enough to know she went by Lauren at one time. Her mind swarmed with faces, names, she couldn't sift through them all.

"Ian Doyle is a leech. He uses good people, for his personal vendettas. People are expendable to him. He and his men came after you. And your people killed my brother. Liam…" The red headed woman spat at her.

Emily froze. Liam had been Ian's right hand man for years. Had remained loyal to him from the beginning… He must have died at the warehouse, when Ian had disappeared. She processed all of this with a layer of heavy fog. Why would this woman come after her? Why not take out Ian?

"Ian Doyle was hellbent on revenge. But now, he welcomes you with open arms. Loves you, even. But, my brother had been loyal to him from day one, and died at the hands of you and Ian Doyle. His blood is on your hands and you both will pay." She said venomously.

"Your brother was a mercenary." Emily said slowly. "He did what he was PAID to do. Ian is an arms dealer. Do you really think he didn't know death was inevitable?" She laughed tiredly. This was exhausting. She laid there, staring this woman down. She was in pain, but she used that pain; used it as fuel to put strength into her voice.

The woman smacked her across the face, hard. Emily felt her head fly to the left and blood fill her mouth. Emily looked back at her cruelly, before chuckling. "Your brother was right not to trust me, in the beginning. But, that didn't really help him in the end did it?" She paused. "You're right. Ian doesn't give a shit about anyone that works for him. He knows what will happen, and so do they. They take the risk willingly, for a big fat pay off. That's all any of them care about. Money. Greedy whores. Paid to do whatever Ian says." She said laughing.

The woman stood up, giving Emily a look of pure hatred.

"Well, we'll just see how much Ian Doyle really cares about you… Don't be surprised though, when he doesn't come for you. It's already been 5 days. He'll be getting the first dvd any day now." She said with contempt dripping from her voice.

Emily controlled her face, careful to not let this woman see the panic that flooded her veins. 5 days? How could she have been gone 5 days now? What was taking him so long? Emily laid there, still and motionless as the woman walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

She felt the pain flood her body again. She'd finally realized she'd been raped; and Ian was about to see it all on tape. For the first time since she'd been here, she curled up on her side, and felt her eyes well with tears. She prayed for her unborn baby, that it was still ok. She didn't feel that anything was wrong yet, but she couldn't guarantee that for very much longer. She was in deep, deep trouble. _Ian, Ian… Hurry, please, hurry!_ She thought with a feeling of pure terror as the brightly lit room went completely black, as they shut her off in the dark.


	21. Acquaintences

A/N: Here is the much anticipated Garcia/Ian chapter. Hope it livens up the story a little from the last chapter which was really dark and yeahh… Here goes! Sorry it's a little short!

Being good is commendable, but only when it is combined with doing good is it useful. ~Author Unknown

Garcia paced back and forth nervously. It had been 2 days since Emily had been taken. Isaac was due to arrive any second. She didn't know where Emily was, if she was even alive. The stress had been painfully apparent. She hadn't eaten anything or slept hardly a moment since Emily had disappeared. She'd talked to Isaac numerous times; he'd been detained due to a storm up in France. But he was on his way here now. Every time she talked to him, she had this weird feeling that she knew his voice from somewhere…

She'd managed to get to an internet café where she'd tried her best to hack into airport security and put Emily's picture up everywhere. They wouldn't get her out of the country that way. She'd wanted to bring in the team, so much so it pained her. But she didn't know how to explain that Emily had disappeared without worrying all of them while they were on a case. She heard the crunch of tires on brick and ran to the front door where Declan had been standing watch. He kept looking at her nervously as though he was waiting for something. He'd been acting very strangely since Emily had gone missing, but she'd dismissed it as him being worried about Emily. She heard a car door shut and held her breath nervously. She saw a man walk up to the door and her heart stopped. The door opened and Garcia thought she would surely faint.

In walked none other than Ian Doyle…

Ian walked inside in a hurry. He'd already been detained looking for Emily long enough, thanks to some damn storm in France. He walked in setting his jacket on the table in the foyer, and looked over as Declan came running over to him. He paused a moment, before he gripped Ian in a death hug. He heard Declan whisper, "They took her. They took Emily, Dad."

"We'll find her, son. I will get her back, I swear it." Ian said jaw clenched. He had no idea who could possibly do this. It had been hell enough trying to figure out who had taken his son. It was almost as hellish trying to figure out who took the only woman he'd loved for years and the mother of his second child. He'd been calculating a list of enemies in his wait time and had narrowed it down to 15 names, which was still a helluva lot of people to have hate you.

"Hello, Penelope." He said, finally looking up at the statuesque woman standing petrified in his foyer.

"How—What the – You—Oh my god. Oh my effing god." She said squeakily, starting to hyperventilate. She fanned herself in a panic, taking deep breaths. Ian sighed. He didn't have time for introductions. The longer Emily was missing, the worse her chances were of ever returning to them alive and with their child.

Garcia couldn't breathe. She thought for sure she'd seen a ghost. She'd watched surveillance footage for months waiting for his face to appear when they'd been watching Declan. But, seeing him now in person after she'd been sure he'd been shot to death on the tarmac, she couldn't breathe. She looked over at Declan. He seemed calm, almost relieved that Ian was here. Then she made the connection. It had been at the mall, when they'd found Emily missing Declan had asked, "Did you call my dad?" She'd just assumed that he'd been referring to Emily's new husband. But… there was no Isaac. There was only Ian. Emily was with Ian. She'd been with him this whole time. She was having his baby. She swayed precariously, she was going to faint, absolutely positively going to hit the marble floor. She grabbed onto the table to steady herself. Ian was standing there, hands on his hips watching her. He looked annoyed, impatient. She was terrified. She was standing in the house of a known Irish terrorist, who looked absolutely peeved at her.

"Ian? Ian Doyle?" She stammered.

"Yes."

"But you—You're dead!" She said.

"Obviously not. I'm standing here aren't I?"

"Bu-but—" She sputtered frantically, before he cut her off.

"Garcia! Garcia. I need your help. Emily is missing and the longer we take to get acquainted with each other, the longer she stays missing, and less chance we have of finding them both alive." He said firmly, leaving no room for doubt that he was not messing around.

Garcia inhaled sharply. Emily. Right. Emily needed them. If Emily and Declan trusted him, then so should she. At least for now. She had no idea what to do. But he was right. The longer they waited, the less likely Emily and the baby would be found alive.

"Wh-What do you need me to do?" She said breathily, mustering up all the courage she had in her to speak to him, face to face.

"I need you to run these names and see if anyone on that list has entered or left Dubai in the last 2 weeks." He said waving a piece of yellow paper in front of him.

"Bu- How can I do that? There's no internet connection here and I already trie—"

"I already took care of that. You have the highest bandwidth available known to man here now, and I assume you brought your own computer." He said looking at her sharply.

"Ye-Yes." She said taking the list from him, and ran to the dining room where her laptop was waiting. Sure enough, she looked down at the bottom corner and she was already fully connected to some high bandwidth wi-fi. She pulled up a program and started typing in the names he'd given her faster than anything she'd typed in her life. They had to find Emily alive. They just had to…

Ian looked down at Declan as Garcia hurried away with the list he'd given her. Declan was biting his fingernails. _**Emily**_. He thought, with a sad humor, mixed with annoyance. He hated that habit of hers, and now Declan was doing it. He rolled his eyes at the ceiling in an attempt to curb his irritation. How bad would he feel if something happened to her and the last thing he'd thought of her was irritation? So, he said nothing. The boy was clearly upset, and for good reason. He took a deep breath, before he said.

"Declan, I need you to go occupy yourself for a while. Can you do that?" He asked gently, taking Declan's shoulder.

Declan nodded sullenly. "Sure," before sprinting up the stairs 2 at a time.

Ian sighed. This was going to be a long day… He took another deep breath before he strode purposefully towards the dining room where Penelope had run off to. Together, he and Garcia had a reasonable chance of finding Emily. All he knew was he _**would**_ find Emily alive. He had to…


	22. Je T'aime

A/N: Thank you guys for your reviews they are so great! Also thanks to those that said get well! Molly92: I hope you feel better too! And to Kat: I don't think it's creepy, im quite flattered :P LOL anyways Thanks again! Love you guys! FYI this chapter is a smidge short, but I think you'll like it… Or at least I hope so! Oh btw, according to reviews my French was right last time or at least close, so I took another go at it, NOT GUARANTEEING ITS RIGHT! LOL Btw: Emily's POV…

"**Love demands everything, they say, but my love demands only this: that no matter what happens or how long it takes, you`ll keep faith in me, you`ll remember who we are, and you`ll never feel despair."****  
><strong>**―****Ann Brashares****,**_**My Name Is Memory**_

Emily shivered. This room was so cold, so bright, so hard. After a few days, she'd managed to sit up. Then a few more she'd managed to stand. She was in a large, cement room with a metal toilet in the far corner, nothing else; one heavy metal door with a dead bolt that locked from the outside. There was no way out. She'd tried everything. After the initial shock had worn off she'd done her damndest to figure out how to escape. This was proving difficult, due to the foggy haze her brain was constantly kept in. At first she'd thought barbiturates, but she'd clearly noticed the signs of heroine… She was in a panic every time because of the baby.

She'd been beaten quite a few times, just to shut her up, she assumed, and to keep her weak and vulnerable, but strangely there had been no further rape. She'd been expecting it, ready to fight back this time, but it never came which quite baffled her. The profiler in her was trying to figure out, why it had been done to her in the first place. The woman behind this was clearly not sexually motivated, so rape seemed… odd. She'd lost track of how many days she'd been here now. Every day she prayed and prayed, cried out for Ian. But he hadn't come… She'd screamed for him for hours after she'd discovered she'd been violated, beaten again even more to stop her screaming. She knew he couldn't hear her. But she still cried out for him… After a few days though, she'd started to lose hope. She could feel despair sinking in, and she noticed it even more when the drugs were wearing off.

She paced frantically, biting the skin around her nails. She'd bitten the nails so much they bled. She had to figure a way out of here. She'd had no further visits from Liam's sister, whose name she still didn't know. She'd only seen the 3 men who brought the needles and the assaults to her body. She thanked them for the heroine though, it kept the pain to a minimum…until it wore off. She knew her ankle was broken, and her left hand. Her ankle had been snapped by one of them as they stomped on it, and her hand had been broken one day when she was feeling froggy and had decided swinging on the biggest man had been a good idea. She'd got him good, right in the jaw, which unfortunately for her, seemed to be constructed of steel.

She wrapped her arms around herself as she paced. She knew she should not be walking around on her ankle, but she couldn't feel it at the moment. All she could feel was cold. And emptiness. She felt any feelings she had for Ian dissipate, her hopelessness ate at her constantly. Part of her thought that Ian was not coming because all he'd wanted was Declan. That this woman had done him a favor by getting her out of the way. Her inner demons told her Ian wasn't coming for her because she was not a crucial part to his plan, he'd only cared about his son and now that he had him, she was expendable. Just like everyone else in his miserable life had been.

Some days she could banish these dark thoughts. Other days she couldn't escape them. Some days she wished they would just overdose her so she wouldn't have to feel anything anymore, so any thoughts would just cease to be. She rubbed her stomach unconsciously. She was getting bigger. Slowly, soon it would be apparently obvious she was pregnant. She'd manage to avoid getting kicked in the stomach so far, by curling up in the fetal position. She hadn't said anything because she was afraid that would jeopardize the two of them further, because her kidnappers would have more leverage to use against Ian if they knew she was pregnant with his child.

Emily dropped to the stone cold floor. She was covered in dirt, sweat, and her fear clung to her skin like a disease. She was almost out of steam. She tried to remember the good times, her friends back home; the boy she loved almost like her own, Declan; and Ian. She pictured them together, standing out on their balcony, in the moonlight; their faces inches from one another's. She tried to remember the loving look he'd given her. The longing, need, and affection his crystal blue eyes radiated. She could almost feel the hand he would place on the side of her face, the other on her hip, pulling her towards him… She could hear the words he'd spoken clear as day, "Je t'aime. Vous êtes mon ange, mon cadeau de Dieu." Yes, this memory she played over and over… His angel, his gift from god… He would come for her… She had to believe it. She had to. She laid down against the stone cold floor, her heart aching, she was so tired. So heavy… She felt her eyelids begin to droop. And as she drifted off to sleep she swore she could hear the sounds of machine guns through the walls, close. Voices yelling. But she couldn't fight the tiredness anymore. She listened intently as her world once more, went dark…


	23. Vengeance

A/N: Warning! Parts of this are going to be dark and slightly graphic. Don't say I didn't warn you… Also Thanks for the reviews guys! Also thanks to Kat for the French lesson. Like I said before, I don't speak any French except what I learned in ballet when I was like, 12. Spanish is my (mostly) second language… But we all know Ian speaks French so… I'll just try and wing it huh?

"**Vengeance** is mine, and I will repay."

Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoy 

Ian walked quickly to the front door. The housekeeper said a package had been delivered outside the front gate. They'd brought it in and it was waiting for him in his study. It had been addressed with only the word Emily scribed in bold black handwriting. He'd been dreading this moment from the second she'd gone missing…

He grabbed the padded yellow envelope. It had been 2 weeks now. He and Garcia had narrowed it down to 2 people and he had people tailing their every move, but so far. Nothing. Working with Penelope Garcia had been interesting if not uneventful. She seemed utterly terrified of him, but that only seemed to make her talk even more and even more quickly. Other than dinners with Declan, he'd spent every waking moment in his study, tracking down contacts and leads. Not that he'd slept much… Every day he was here looking, was another second Emily was alone with them. And that did not sit well with him… Not at all.

He pulled out the contents of the envelope once he had gone into the study and locked the door behind him. He'd been leaving it unlocked lately so that Garcia could come in whenever she'd found something new. But, not knowing what he would find, he did not want to be interrupted. It looked like a dvd of some sorts. Blank, silver, and whatever this was, he knew it could not be anything good. He held it between his fingers for a moment, closing his eyes. He had to prepare himself for the possibility of the fact he might be about to watch the execution of Emily Prentiss.

He took a deep breath and stuck the dvd into the dvd player. At first an empty cement room appeared. Until he noticed a crumpled figure wearing a black and white dress in the corner. Emily. Her hair was in disarray and she was motionless. Then two massive looking men walked in from underneath the camera view. One of them held a small syringe in his left hand. They approached Emily, slowly kneeling down next to her. The one with the syringe grabbed her limp arm and injected something into her. Slowly she opened her eyes. Her brown eyes were filled with confusion and fear. She looked around her in disorientation. She was lost. Ian bit his lip, but continued to watch. Minutes passed as the 2 men circled around her as she got her bearings. One of them spit on her, and she tried feebly to kick him but the drugs slowed her down and he easily stepped out of her way. The one currently behind her lifted her up underneath her arms so she was standing. She teeter-tottered unstably, her eyes rolling around. She was going to pass out. Ian started pacing in front of the television screen. He knew what was about to happen. The men started pushing her back and forth between them for a minute, and when she was being flung back towards the camera instead of being tossed back, the man backhanded her. Ian threw the remote as hard as he could, aiming at anything breakable. He was rewarded when he hit a antique vase from Ireland and it shattered into a million pieces.

He didn't want to watch anymore. He couldn't stand to see the beating Emily was now receiving. Her cries for him were almost unbearable. He turned back towards the TV, still pacing. He had to know, though. He had to watch and make sure she was still…Alive. Emily's face was bloody and she was laying on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. She was crying out for him. Begging him to come save her and he could do nothing but watch. After a kick to the back of the head, Emily laid silent and still. She was still breathing, just unconscious. But, nothing, Nothing he'd ever done or witnessed in his miserable depraved life could have ever prepared him for the torture he witnessed next.

They raped her. 2 men. Raped his beloved Emily. While she was unconscious, unmoving. She couldn't have fought them off even if she'd been able to. Ian stopped pacing. He could feel whatever soul he had left in him, leave… There was no boundary, no line he would not cross now. All bets were off now. This dvd had been the wrong idea. They had meant it to torture him psychologically, and it had. Ian would have rather had his fingernails pried back with bamboo like they had in back in the Vietnam era. Ian stopped the dvd. The two men had turned around to leave, Emily lie behind them, twitching as whatever drug they'd given her circulated through her tired, starved, beaten body. She was still alive. For now.

Whoever had done this would wish to whatever god they prayed to that he had the mercy to put a bullet right to their head and end it swiftly otherwise…Well, he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't enjoy putting them through everything Emily had endured…tenfold.

Garcia paced anxiously in front of Ian's study. She had done it! She had located the nearest warehouse owned by one of their top 2 suspects and she'd just heard from one of Ian's surveillance people that Casey MacCarthy had been seen entering the warehouse herself. She'd immediately rushed to find Ian in his study, but when she'd arrived the door had been locked. This was odd, because Ian had told her it would remain unlocked so that any update could be brought to him immediately…

She waited outside, knocking. Nothing. Then a moment later she heard something inside shatter loudly with a loud yell. She paused. Holding her breath. This was not good. So not good. She was terrified of Ian's temper. She'd heard countless times from Derek, this man's profile and it was not a happy one generally speaking. She thought about leaving, going back to her computer screen, where she felt safe. But she didn't this was for Emily. Emily needed them. She took a deep breath and pounded on the door again, calling his name.

She was about to knock again, when the door opened. Ian looked like hell. His face was white, and his jaw was clenched tightly. His eyes though, his eyes were murderous…

"What Garcia?" He said tightly.

"Ian, Ian -I think we've found her. I mean, well, where she could be. Where they could be hiding her. Emmett called. He said he'd been trying to reach you. They followed Casey MacCarthy to the warehouse I tracked down. It's large enough to hide Emily in and it's family owned. It's for a local shipping company that ships from here to Ireland. Ian, this could be where Emily is!"

Ian looked at her intently, before he pulled out his phone and dialed someone. "Get everyone. Now. It's time…" And he hung up, before he looked at her one more time. "Garcia are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm like 99% positive. We already made sure she couldn't have left the country, and the MacCarthy's were on our list, they own a warehouse here in Dubai… I mean it all fits!" Garcia said emphatically. They were wasting time! Emily had been waiting long enough.

"Fine. I'll be back in a few hours. Call Emmett and have him watching the warehouse until we arrive." Ian said firmly, dialing someone else as he spoke.

"Okay, on it." Garcia said pulling out her phone, before scurrying away back to her computer in the living room. They were going to save Emily and the baby… She just had a feeling. Just in what shape she was in when they found her was a different story…

Ian dialed his phone for a second time. He needed everyone assembled and ready to go in half an hour. He would not wait a second more. He walked to the front door and stood on the porch, watching as men scurried around loading guns and ammo onto the waiting pick-up trucks. He would save Emily. He just prayed he was not too late…


	24. Home

A/N: Hey guys back again : ) I've been trying to think of a good way to write this chapter because it really needs to be told a certain way, so each part will flip back and forth between Emily and Ian because really you need to see both of their views for this chapter. Oh, If anyone noticed the new song "Criminal" by Britney Spears fits Emily and Ian's relationship PERFECTLY…. Even if you hate Britney you should listen. I'm thinking about making a music vid to it. Either that song or Judas by Lady G… Either one fits. Actually I have a whole playlist that does…..Lol Anyyyyways… Here goes!

Well I'm going home,  
>Back to the place where I belong,<br>And where your love has always been enough for me.  
>I'm not running from.<br>No, I think you got me all wrong.  
>I don't regret this life I chose for me.<br>But these places and these faces are getting old,  
>So I'm going home.<br>Well I'm going home

_**Chris Daughtry**_ – "Home"

**Emily**

She could feel his eyes boring into hers… icy pools that could wake the dead. Her eyes fluttered and she could see men with machine guns walking around. She could see five people tied to chairs in the room opposite her. And she could see… Ian. She started to cry and laugh at the same time. She reached up to touch his face and he kissed her hand.

"Emily? Emily are you alright? Can you stand?" He asked urgently, holding her hand tightly between both of his. He looked so upset, worried, and very, very pissed off. Emily looked around again the five people were four men and that woman. They looked scared.

"Emily, did you hear me? Can you stand?" Ian asked squeezing her hand tightly to get her attention. Tears still flowed from her eyes as she laughed hysterically again.

"I—I th-thought you weren't coming! I—I was giving u—" She was interrupted.

"Emily. I will always come for you. Always." He said firmly, kissing her hand again, reaching down to brush the dirty, sweaty hair away from her eyes and used his thumb to wipe her tears away. She felt like a baby, but all she could do was sob. She had been ready to give up that he was coming for her.

"Love, I need you to focus. Can you stand? Can you walk? We need to get you home. Dr. Scott is waiting for you at the Villa." Ian said brushing her hair with his hand.

"They—I think my ankle's broken…" She said breathing heavily, trying to calm down.

Ian's eyes glazed over, with something that Emily had only ever seen in him twice in her life. It was not good. He stood up slowly. Emily started to panic.

"Ian—"

"Hold on, Love. Plug your ears. It's going to get a little loud." He said quietly. He took a pistol out of his jacket. He walked over to the first man and put a bullet right into the man's ankles… and the next man…then the woman… then the other two men, before he turned back around to the Emmett, his new right hand man.

"Take care of these…" He nodded back to the five people now bleeding onto the concrete, screaming. Emmett nodded. He bent down next to her again pulling her hands away from her ears.

"Put your arms around my neck, Love." He said, noticing the many injection holes that dotted the crooks of her elbows. She did. She wrapped her arms around him and felt his arms slide underneath her and scoop her up. He may look older, but she couldn't help but give him props for staying in shape. It came in handy… He carried her out of the concrete room, the first time she'd left it in 2 weeks, but it seemed like a lifetime. He carried her past other men with guns that littered the corridor and out into the sun. She had to blink several times to get her eyes to adjust. After the harsh blinding light they'd kept on her, the soft sunset felt like a gentle nightlight… Ian carried her to a waiting limousine, where a driver opened the door for them and Ian went to set her down on the seat. The black leather felt like a feather mattress to her aching body.

"Ian, don't leave me!" She said frantically as he placed her down and stood back up. He paused.

"Love, I need to finish this. I'll be right back. I swear to you I will be back." He said bending down to stick his head in the car to kiss her forehead. "Just relax. Have you had anything to eat or drink today? He said motioning to the mini bar, "There's water and some food in the bar there. Eat something and by the time you're done, I'll be back to take you home."

"I haven't eaten at all. I—I never ate anything." She stammered, a little confused as to how she was still alive… One of those injections must have been dietary supplements. Once again, Ian's eyes glazed over.

"I'll be back, Emily." He said shutting the door a little harder than necessary.

She bent down and opened the mini fridge and grabbed a bottle of water with her good hand. She'd not even told him about her broken hand. Better off to save that for the doctor to find. She certainly didn't want to tell him anything else. She knew what was happening to those people. She didn't really condone torture on anyone, but… she couldn't do anything for those people anyways. Their fate had been sealed the minute they'd taken her. Better to leave the emotional scarring for those were already close to emotional bankruptcy anyways. She let the cold water flood her raspy, parched throat. She closed her eyes and waited. Ian was here now. She was going home…

**Ian**

Ian had never felt so irate in his whole life. He was blacking out. He slammed the door of the car a little harder than he'd intended. Not ate… Not ate anything… Broken ankle, among others he imagined…Raped by two men while she was unconscious… while she couldn't even fight back… He strode back into the warehouse and down the hallway to the concrete room. Emmett and his men had done a good job so far. The five people were bleeding profusely from various wounds, some gun shots, some not. They were close to within an inch of their lives, easily.

He walked over to the woman, grabbing her by the hair, forcing her to look at him.

"Hello, Casey. We finally meet. Liam always talked about you; he said you were the most hot headed woman in your family… He didn't tell me that you were also the stupidest." He said chuckling.

"My brother is dead because of you!" She said wheezily, spitting at him. He stepped aside as Miller took the butt end of a Galil to her solar plexus. She sputtered gasping for air, wind being knocked out of her.

"You're brother was a loyal friend to me. But, he knew the consequences of this lifestyle. They all do." He said waving an arm at the six men behind him.

"Yeah, well look where it got him…dead." She whispered breathily.

"Well, soon you'll join him." Ian said smiling wickedly. "But, before you do. Would you mind pointing out which stupid bastards raped my wife?" He asked feigning confusion. He inserted the word "Wife" just for added dramatic.

"Th-that was just for—for the tape." She rasped, panicky.

"Oh I know. It doesn't really matter though. You crossed a line my dear. And I intend to make you pay for it… Say hello to brother in hell for me." He said pointing a gun right at her crotch. He nodded at the other five men behind him, who all took aim as well. The screams that followed the gunshots were loud, but short lived. Those who didn't die within minutes were taken care of soon after, bullet the head. Execution style. He didn't have time to wait, although the sadist in him wanted to draw it out long and painfully. Emily needed him. And these scum sucking bastards weren't worth his time. Putting his gun back into his jacket he and his men picked up the shell casings and cleared out. Within minutes he was opening the car door…

Emily was lying down, cradling her left hand against her chest. Ian slid onto the seat opposite hers and took a deep breath. It was finally over. He looked over her slender body, checking for obvious injuries. She was pin-thin, but the bulge in her stomach was much more prominent than the last time he'd seen her. Her face was caked with dried blood from cuts on her cheek bones, mouth, and forehead. Bruises littered her face and arms. The way she was cradling her hand, suggested there was something wrong with it, her fingertips were bloody messes; he snorted, he should have known she would have bitten her nails to the point of no return.

He paused his visual assessment when he got to her legs. He was almost never scared of anything in his life, but he was literally terrified to see what was under her dress. Those bastards had got off fucking easy, to him anyways. He poured himself a glass of single malt from the mini bar. He needed a drink; his nerves were still riding the killing edge.

He didn't want Declan to see her like this. The boy had been a nervous wreck since Emily had gone missing. He kicked himself repeatedly. He should have never left them alone unprotected. Emily had warned him about this. This was the kind of thing she obsessed about his life, the kind of thing that often led to their arguments. He was a fool. He should never—

"Ian?" Emily said quietly, her eyes fluttering open. She tried to prop herself up, to no avail.

"Lay still, Love. We're almost home." He said hoarsely. She laid back down, her brown eyes looking at him intensely.

"Ian? How's Declan? Is he okay? They didn't—" She asked her voice cracking

"No. They didn't take him. He's fine. He's with Penelope at the house." Ian said, taking another sip from the ice filled glass of whiskey.

"Oh god. Garcia! She's probably—does she know about you? How is she?" Emily asked frantically. Ian sighed. She was not going to relax like he'd asked her to.

"Emily, calm down. Please. You might have internal injuries, and your blood pressure will affect the baby. Please. I will answer all your questions, just one at a time." He said sternly.

"Ian!—" She started to yell.

"Emily! Calm. Yourself. Now. I won't tell you again. Don't make me have the doctor sedate you until you're cleared to throw fits again." Ian said exasperatedly. Woman had the listening skills of a 3 year old sometimes…

A look of sickness came over her when he'd mentioned sedating her. Maybe that had been the wrong thing to say. Oh well, she wouldn't listen anyways.

"Now, to answer your questions: Yes Garcia does know about me, and to answer your next question, No the BAU does not. We came to the agreement that telling them about your current situation would impede with their ability to deal with their current cases." He paused before continuing, watching her sigh in what he assumed was relief. "And to answer your last question, Penelope is fine, she very worried about you, but she is okay. She's done an excellent job helping with Declan as well." He said smiling at her reassuringly. She in return gave him a small smile back.

He took her hand, her right one, and kissed it. The car came to a stop in front of the gate, as the gates opened.

"Welcome home, Love."


	25. Withdrawal

A/N: Hey guys thanks for your reviews! I was pretty proud of myself I think that has been the longest chapter so far but it doesn't really feel like I wrote that much! : ) There's a lot of swearing in multiple languages… I'm notttttttttt really sure any of them are right but I tried REALLLY hard this time to match the verb tenses and whatnot this time, so we'll see! I know my French readers can tell me if I'm right or wrong ; ))

You pray to god, don't know when  
>But you feel the current pull you in<br>Try to keep your head above water  
>Cause it's never been harder<br>Even when it feels hopeless  
>You're gonna get through this<br>Head above water, gotta fight from going under  
>Even when it feels useless to wish<br>You're gonna get through this

-Theory of a Deadman, "Head Above Water"

_**IAN _**_

Glass shattered behind his head again. The last 4 days had been absolute hell in this household. When they'd arrived home Dr. Scott had examined Emily, done an ultrasound to check on the baby. The baby was okay, thank god. Emily however was a little worse for wear. She and the baby were both malnourished. She had a broken ankle, hand, concussion, and hairline fracture on her collarbone. She had severe bruising that covered 89% of her body. She didn't appear to have any internal injuries, however. She had some vaginal bruising and tearing that needed to heal before the baby came, so she had been ordered to bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy. Something that he completely stood behind, much to Emily's dislike. She was a woman of action. Sitting around doing nothing absolutely killed her with boredom.

But all that wasn't what had made him want to drink himself into an early grave. It was the withdrawal… Those bastards in two weeks had managed to get her 100% addicted to heroin. She'd been cut off cold turkey. She couldn't take the Methadone because of the baby. Even though the _**real**_ Emily would never willingly take heroin, the symptoms of withdrawal were still painfully apparent. She'd had cold sweats at first, and Ian had thought that had been bad… Then came her mood swings. A pregnant woman going through withdrawal was like a double whammy. Ian had refused to let Declan see her except for when she was asleep, because she was a living train wreck when she was awake. She had purple bags under her eyes and whenever she was awake all she did was scream and throw temper tantrums. He'd already removed any sharp objects from their bedroom because she'd been borderline suicidal for the first few days when he'd refused to give her what she "needed."

She'd even tried to distract and persuade him with sex, which hadn't worked, because A) the doctor had told him not to be intimate with her until her feminine area was completely healed. B) Because this wasn't his first rodeo. He'd been with all kinds of women who had tried to use sexual distraction to get what they wanted, he'd learned to get sexual favors and then still deny them what they wanted. He wouldn't do that to her, though. Use her like that; she wasn't like the others…

He rolled his as when he looked over at her. She was up out of bed, yet again, still screaming at him in fluid Russian. "Yob tvou mat'!" Ian closed his eyes and counted to five. She'd just told him to go fuck his mother, on top of destroying yet another cereal bowl and water glass. He was trying so hard to be patient with her. He knew what she'd been through, and he wasn't without some ounce of compassion, but he was reaching the end of his rope. He walked out onto the balcony to get away from her while she continued her international fluency in various forms of swear words. They'd managed to have all of their fights in any language besides English, because they knew Declan was outside listening.

"Past' zakroi!" He yelled back at her. If she didn't shut up soon, he was going to lose it. At first he'd tried being nice, and it hadn't gotten him anything, except she'd tried to swing on him with her broken hand like a dumbass. He'd grabbed a hold of her wrist squeezing until she cowered in pain. It had been four days of hectic hell. Non-stop fighting and screaming; nightmares and crying. God he'd prayed this withdrawal wouldn't last too much longer. He couldn't promise restraining himself much longer. He couldn't leave her alone. She panicked when he would get up to leave, and he didn't trust a fiending Emily alone without supervision anyways. Ian turned around suddenly; she was behind him ready to get in his face. She had switched to Italian now. Wonderful.

"Pezzo di merda! Ti Odio!" She bit out angrily. _Lovely. Well, right now I hate you too dear_. Ian thought to himself. He put his hand on his hip as he leaned against the stone balcony ledge. He looked down at the ground for a moment before he composed himself enough to speak again.

"Emily, get your ass back into that bed before I have to put you there. I guarantee you won't like it." He said warningly, towering over her as she screamed at him. She was shaking, and she kept itching her arms… God he hated junkies. He always had, they annoyed him to no end with their constant twitching and sketchy behavioral tics.

She spat at him. She was crying hysterically in French now, "C'est vraiment de ta faute!"

Ian froze. He'd been waiting for this. He knew eventually she would blame him for all of this. He knew it was his fault too, but he'd be damned if he would admit that during a fight.

"Vas. se. coucher. MAINTENANT!" He yelled about an inch from her face. He grabbed her shoulders firmly trying to spin her around back into the bedroom. If she wasn't in that bed in 2 seconds he swore to god he was going to throw her there from this very balcony.

She tensed up screaming, "Ne me touche pas ! Ne te me toucher putain! Juste foutre le camp loin de moi!"

"Well, first of all I will touch you whenever I want, and secondly, you are the one who followed me out here Princess, so no! I'm not going anywhere! And the only place you're going is back to FUCKING bed. I won't tell you again." Ian growled in her ear, squeezing her shoulders tightly, forcing her to walk back towards the bed. He knew the fight was leaving her. She was exhausted and though she struggled she let him force her back onto the bed, reluctantly…

He leaned over her, hands still on her shoulders pinning her onto the soft mattress. "Emily Prentiss, I swear on the child inside you, if you so much as attempt to get out of this bed again tonight, I will make you regret it. Compris?" He shook her firmly to make his point.

"Va te faire foutre." She said angrily, pushing up against his hands to get up. He grabbed her chin tightly. She'd like that wouldn't she? Well no dice. Not happening. At least not now.

"Emily I'm not fucking around with you anymore. Stop acting like a prissy bitch and lay the fuck still!" He said just as angrily. His patience was about bone dry. "You heard the doctor! I swear to god if you jeopardize this pregnancy anymore than it already has been, I will kill you with my bare hands, got me?" He said his eyes glaring into hers.

" Fuck off, Ian! This would have never happened if it weren't for you. You don't have a clue what I'm going through. You don't understand what this feels like!" She cried out. "Just leave me alone!" She said wrenching her chin out of his grasp and rolling over onto her side away from him. He froze for a moment. Her words, though true, still stung.

He let her go. She was at least lying down now, sobbing into the pillow. It would be mere minutes before she was passed the fuck out. He hadn't even slept in the bed with her since she'd been back because she had nightmares and woke up kicking and screaming, and her cold sweats had soaked the bed more than once.

He sighed. Looking around he surveyed the damage. The glass from her bowl and water glass sprinkled the carpet like diamonds. He should have the housekeeper clean, but he didn't see the point. It would just happen again tomorrow. The dresser drawers were still dumped from their fight yesterday. Annnd the bathroom mirror needed replaced, along with door. The door had been his fault. He'd broke it down when she had barricaded herself in there. He'd heard her scream and then heard the mirror shattered. She'd looked at her reflection and her vision of herself was a skewed, horror-like, meth'd out zombie, and she'd thrown the bottle of shampoo at the mirror… Ian had broken in to find her cowering on the floor in the corner, covered in mirror shards. This whole room had become a war zone, and it was only to get worse before it got better. He knew that this was probably the worst day she'd had so far. So maybe the worst was over. He prayed the house was still standing when this was all over.

He hoped Garcia had kept Declan in his room. She had seen Emily only a few times since she'd been back and she was due to leave tomorrow. Though happy to see her back, Garcia had kept a safe distance. Emily was a difficult person to be around right now. She lashed out at anyone, for any reason. She'd lashed out at Garcia once already, and he hoped Penelope had not taken what she'd said to heart, but the looks Garcia gave her were full of fear and angst. She walked on eggshells whenever she was around Emily, which she was clearly not used to. She told Emily repeatedly how much she was loved by everyone and that Emily was strong, she would get through this. But a part of him knew she was a little unsure. Declan asked to see her every day, but Ian had firmly refused, she was too volatile at the moment. And young children were much more thin skinned than adults. Garcia would understand why Emily was behaving like this, Declan would not, at least not right now. So Declan had taken to listening at the bedroom door to hear their arguments. He just couldn't understand why he couldn't talk to Emily.

He knew she wanted to be left alone, but he out of anyone knew that being alone sometimes was the worst thing for a person to be. So he sat there next to the bed, she flinched as he leaned forward to touch her back, which was still tender he knew, but she didn't stop him. Gently he rubbed her back, and slowly he felt her relax, and her breathing stabilize. Ian sat next to her rubbing her back as she fell into a restless sleep. Once he knew she was asleep, at least for now, he got up and moved to the couch.

Ian sank onto the couch across the room from their bed rubbing his face tiredly. He needed a drink. He resisted though, because alcohol shortened the leash on his temper dramatically and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He flipped on the tv to drown out the sound of her tears. He already felt like an asshole for screaming at her, when none of this was her fault... she just didn't understand that she had to have a little tough love right now. He prayed to God things would get better soon. For both their sakes…


	26. Breakfast

A/N: Hey guys so sorry I didn't update yesterday, I was planning to, then I got distracted watching and Ian/Emily music vid, then decided to start making one of my own lols. ALSO there will be a sex scene coming up next chapter, I swear! SOoo without further ado, here is your next chapter! Enjoy!

Emily's POV

3 Days later

Emily felt like shit. Everything in her body hurt, her hormones were making her crazy, and to top it off she was going through withdrawal…the hard way. Not that going through withdrawal was ever a pleasant experience, but from the damage and chaos that had surrounded her the last week, she knew this was bad. Garcia had left 2 days ago sadly. Emily felt awful she knew she had some really awful stuff in front of her. She needed to call her and make sure her feelings weren't hurt too badly.

She rolled over carefully onto her right side, looking for Ian. He was sleeping, snoring quietly on the white leather couch across the room. The tv was still on, blaring some loud obnoxious Japanese game show. She paused. She wanted something to eat, for the first time in what felt like weeks she was ACTUALLY hungry. Ian had practically been force feeding her throughout the last week. She looked around the room again. Clothes and dresser drawers were strewn across the room, and through the open balcony doors the sun shown on the carpet, which glistened like diamonds with the shattered glass that she'd broken. She bit her lip, she didn't know whether it would be a good idea to wake Ian, or if she should just try to hobble down to the kitchen and make something herself. She'd been a fool the other night, chasing him out onto the balcony on a broken ankle, which throbbed painfully.

Before today she would have just got up herself and done it, but Ian got very testy when she got out of bed unnecessarily. Sucking up her pride she hissed out, "Ian? Ian, are you awake?" She always found that phrase funny, how people would ask someone who was clearly sleeping if they were awake. Duh.

He didn't budge. Damn. "Ian!" She said a little louder this time. Still no answer. Well I'm glad this isn't an emergency, she thought sardonically. She decided a little poke was deemed necessary, so she swung her bruised legs over the side of the bed. She knew the poor man was probably exhausted. She knew she wasn't quite done with the withdrawal but for the first time in days, she wasn't shaking or itching. She also felt quite calm, not the frenzied panic and craving she'd been feeling for so long.

She hobbled over to the couch and leaned over Ian, he looked like he hadn't changed or showered. He sure smelled like it. She couldn't really complain, she looked like the living dead, she was sure. She gave his shoulder a little poke. "Ian!" She whispered. God, this man was a deep sleeper. "Ian!" She said much, much louder. She jumped a little when he reached up quickly and grabbed her wrist, though not as tightly as usual.

"Emily what are you doing out of bed?" He asked, eyes still closed. She frowned. She couldn't tell if he was irritated that she woke him up or that she was out of bed again.

"I'm hungry." She said meekly. "I can't walk down to the kitchen, or I would do it myself." She said with almost an apologetic note in her voice. Slowly, Ian opened his eyes, letting go of her wrist. He rubbed his unshaven face, looking at his watch.

"Okay." He said sitting up slowly. "Get back in bed." She nodded, limping back over to the bed crawling onto it. She could feel him sitting there staring at her, as she had her back to him while she made her way over to her side of the bed.

"What?" She asked. He was just shaking his head, chuckling to himself.

"Nothing. Even limping and bruised, you still have the most beautiful ass I've seen in my life." He said raising an eyebrow at her. She blushed. He hadn't complimented her in a long time, but it would figure the first time he did, it would be about her ass. Typical man. She dug herself back under the covers pulling them up over her head.

"Emily. Don't do that." He said crawling onto the bed beside her, pulling the covers down away from her face. "I was without your face for long enough. You won't be covering it up any time soon." He said, caressing the side of her cheek. She blushed again. He leaned in, kissing her softly. She was surprised. He wasn't the morning sex kind of guy, and the way they'd treated each other this past week she was surprised he hadn't killed her, let alone want to kiss her. She opened her mouth a little bit, to let their tongues intertwine with one another's. She put her non-broken hand up on the back of his head. They carried on kissing for a long time in the light of the morning sun, before her stomach growled angrily. She was still hungry…

She bit her lip grimacing in embarrassment as he looked down at her stomach laughing. "We're hungry," she said smiling.

"Alright, alright. What do you want to eat?" He said crawling back off of her, straightening his clothes.

"Mmmm, what can I have?" She asked.

"Anything you want." He said smiling at her.

"Okay, I want some chocolate chip waffles, dill pickles, an omelet, Oh! And some macaroni and cheese, please!" She said excitedly. He looked at her in stunned disbelief, raising another eyebrow at her. He looked like he was going to question her odd choice of breakfast foods, but thought better of it. After all this was the first time she'd ate willingly, so it was still a win for him.

"Okay. Anything else?" He said turning to walk out the door.

"Can I have coke zero?" She asked.

"Yes, but you're limited on the caffeine you can have so if you drink it now you can't have anything later…" He said like he was talking to a kid.

"Ugghh, fine. Just Orange juice then." She said rolling her eyes, but didn't argue. Ian looked shocked. Any time he'd told her no about anything lately, she'd raised hell and high water to get her way. Ian left to get her food, or make it, she wasn't sure, and returned about thirty minutes later with a giant tray full of everything she'd asked for, including the pickles and macaroni, and an omelet for himself. They ate in silence, watching the morning news on the big screen tv in front of them. She looked enviously at the coffee he was drinking. She wanted some caffeine dammit. She stared at the coffee cup, trying to use her mind to bring it over into her hands. It wasn't working, but Ian looked over at her, staring intently at it. He rolled his eyes, before handing it over to her.

"Fine you can have my coffee, but tomorrow your caffeine restriction is back on." He said warningly. She just smiled at him, slurping down the coffee greedily. God it was so good!

"Thank you, Ian."

"You're welcome, Love. I'm just glad you got your appetite back. However odd it is..." He said chuckling.

"Where's Declan?" she asked. She hadn't seen him in so long. Ian had said he'd come while she was sleeping.

"He's still sleeping. It's only 7 am." Ian said looking down at his plate. Something was up with him.

"What?" She asked. She couldn't understand why he was being evasive about this.

"Emily, lets not talk about this right now, okay?" He said firmly.

"Fine, I just miss him." She said crossing her arms in frustration.

"I know you do. And once I'm positive you're out of your…situation… you can see him as much as you want. I promise." He said.

"Fine." She said, huffing in exasperation. "When are you going to have this place cleaned up?" She asked surveying the wasteland that once had been a beautiful master bedroom suite.

"When are you going to stop destroying it?" He asked sarcastically.

"Hey, I had some help!" She said indignantly.

"Yes, well, not a lot. Most of this was all you, Dear." He said pointedly. "But, in all seriousness I was planning on having it cleaned later today. Maybe while you take your bath." He said nodding at her appearance.

"Oh. How am I supposed to do that? You broke the door into 4 million pieces." She said inclining her head to the wooden jigsaw puzzle on the floor.

"Emily, there are OTHER bathrooms in this house you know." He said, as if this was obvious.

"Oh, yeah, I guess there are." She said sheepishly.

"Are you done eating?" He asked.

"Yeah," she answered.

"Good." He moved the tray away and moved back in to kiss her again. She was surprised again. He wasn't always so affectionate, well, except 8 years ago in Italy. She decided not to overanalyze his motives, and just let herself enjoy it. They made out, cuddling for a while before, she was eventually falling back asleep in his arms…


	27. Instant Gratification

A/N: Hey guys I'm back again. I've been listening to a LOT of music and I think it's inspired me to write this morning. Here is the link to the playlist I've been listening to: http:/ /p/22551287563 (I had to put a space between the http cuz it wouldn't post for some reason!. Its 4:30 am while I'm typing so we'll see how far I get… lol OH. Fyi When I finish it, I'll be posting the link for my music video. I found a perfect song, very Love/Hate ish : )) Also Semi-racy sex scene at the end, probably NSFW. Enjoy!

Don't you wanna stay here a little while?  
>Don't you wanna hold each other tight?<br>Don't you wanna fall asleep with me tonight?

Don't you wanna stay here a little while?  
>We can make forever feel this way<br>Don't you wanna stay?

-Don't You Wanna Stay- Jason Aldean feat. Kelly Clarkson

_**IAN'S POV—2 Weeks later…**_

Ian sipped lightly on a glass of gin he was nursing… He was content, but thinking hard.

He had thought things with Emily were finally starting to look up. Her withdrawal had finally began to subside for good. That morning she had woke him up to make her breakfast, they'd finally began to be romantic with each other for the first time since before he'd left.

But… something was still wrong with her. She'd become distant lately, he knew she was very uncomfortable. She was restricted to bed rest for everything but to use the bathroom. He'd recently discovered that she had paid one of the house keepers to sneak her in a pack of Newports and she'd been smoking on the balcony in the middle of the night. He'd thought about confronting her. She knew how much he hated when she smoked. She knew how bad it was for the baby, but he hadn't. He was trying to pick and choose his battles with her. The constant fighting had to stop, it was stressful on her and the baby and him for that matter. He had resisted drinking for the majority of the time, but tonight, tonight was…life altering.

. He'd woken up to hear her crying, sobbing uncontrollably on the balcony. She'd looked so beautiful out in the moonlight, wind lightly blowing her dark hair around her, cigarette in hand. He'd crawled out of bed, and walked out onto the balcony. He was a silent stepper, always had been light on his feet, and he'd startled her. She knew she was busted. She'd tried to ditch her cigarette, but not soon enough.

"I-Ian I, I just needed someth—"

"Emily, why don't you just drink a bottle of wine, or huff some paint thinner?" He'd said snidely, insensitively, despite the fact that she'd been obviously crying. He'd been trying to avoid having this conversation, hoping it had been a one time thing.

"Ian! No-no I didn't mean to hurt—" She'd pleaded, eyes still watering…

"Be quiet Emily. I don't want to hear it anymore…" He'd said walking back into the bedroom. He'd gone out there to see what was wrong, but her attempt to hide things, lie, and make excuses had pissed him off. She wouldn't tell him what was really wrong anyways. He could tell when she was lying. He always had been able to read her like a book. It's how he knew back in Italy she'd really cared for him. It's why he'd done all of this for them, but she still wouldn't accept that this was her life now. She wouldn't let him in like she'd done back then.

He crawled back into bed, turning away from her direction. He didn't want to fight. Minutes later she came crawling into their bed. He could feel her eyes boring into his back.

"Ian?" She whispered.

"What Emily?" He asked, not bothering to turn and look at her.

"Look at me. Please." She said putting a hand on his shoulder.

Reluctantly he turned to face her, sighing. This wasn't promising to be good.

"I'm scared." She said.

"Of what? You're safe now, no one will ever get at you again I swear to you." He said trying to relax himself.

"No, of the baby. What—What if I'm a horrible mom? I'm going to be all alone, I have no friends, no family, here. It's—it just makes me sad. I worry about what if something happens to you, what if it doesn't like me? What if something bad happens again?" She said her lip quivering. She was trying not to cry in front of him, trying to put on a brave face.

He'd expected this. He sighed, he rolled onto his back and faced the ceiling. He didn't know what to say. It's not like they could just move back to DC and live in a cul-de-sac, its not like she could go back to her job anymore, she'd quit. What was left for her back there? She wasn't close to her family anyways… He thought he could give her anything in the world except what she wanted.

"Emily, we can't go back." He said slowly. He knew this would hurt her.

"Why not? I won't be working at the BAU anymore, but I could see my friends, we could have neighbors, have a REAL family life, the kids could go to school again, no one would have to know who you are or what you've done. You just have to give up your business. And we could be NORMAL. Happy." She pleaded, she grabbed his arm begging him. He squeezed his eyes shut. This was the same shit, different toilet. What she didn't know is that he was actually considering it. He'd been thinking about it since he'd got her home. First his son, then his wife and unborn child? It was becoming too dangerous. He'd been planning an exit strategy for weeks now, but he didn't want her to get her hopes up.

"Emily, I just don't think it's a good idea. You know, considering…"

"But, the government thinks you're dead! They cremated "your" ashes and are probably held in an evidence lock up somewhere!" She said emphatically. This was the closest he'd ever come to acknowledging her pleas. "Plus! Even if they did arrest you, for whatever, some stupid shit, your fingerprints wouldn't even be in the system, because the person they already arrested and processed was your twin, and twins don't have the same fingerprints!" She sat up on the bed now, looking at him with her big brown eyes. Damn those eyes, they were irresistible. Ian couldn't even believe what was coming out of her mouth. He couldn't believe he was thinking about it. He had plenty of money, and after selling this place, and getting out of the business, there was a good chance they'd be set for life, and their kids could go to an Ivy League school no problem.

"Emily… let me think about it." He said reluctantly, rubbing his temples, this lunacy was going to give him a headache. Next he knew, she'd flung herself on top of his chest, knocking all the air out of him.

"Emillllllyyy…" He said warningly. "I said I'd think—"

"Thank you thank you thank you! You won't regret it I swear. I promise, we can be a normal family, just like you wanted!" She squealed.

He rolled his eyes. Guess they were moving back to DC… Yippee.

"It may take a while, there are some things that need to be done, we have to sell this place, find a new house, and I need to finish some business."

"Can we please be there by the time the baby comes?" She begged.

"I can't promise that, but we'll get there, can that be enough for you right now?" He said placing his hands on her hips as she sat up on him.

"I guess," she said. Then, she did something very unexpected of her. She wiggled herself down and started to pull down his pajama pants.

"Emily, what are yo—" he started, but she put a finger up to his mouth to silence him.

She wrapped her hand around his cock, which was growing by the millisecond. Ian laid his head back down as she put her soft lips around the tip, going down on him. Ian groaned in enjoyment as her mouth moved up and down on his dick, it had been a long time since she'd wanted to do anything like this, years actually. He grabbed her wrists that were on his hips and pulled her off, bringing her up to meet his lips, he kissed her passionately, pulling her silk slip off exposing her naked body. She was straddled him, lowering herself slowly onto his hard cock. He watched her carefully, he didn't want to hurt her, if she was feeling pain down there still.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, brushing her hair out of her face. She just nodded, he wrapped his arms around her back, kissing up and down her neck, and the soft spot behind her ear that she liked… She moaned arching her back as she rode him. He licked her nipple, as his other hand massaged her breast gently. He could feel her moving towards climax already. So was he. They made slow, intimate love, for the first time, in a very long time. Most of their sex had revolved around heat of the moment urges, pure lust. But for the first time since he'd been back with her, they made love for real. Like they'd used to. After what seemed like hours of sensual intimacy, he felt her cunt tighten unmistakably in sweet agony of climax, she threw her head back as she screamed his name. He dug his fingers into her back as he buried his mouth in crux of her shoulder, and filled her completely with his cum. She leaned in kissing him on the mouth deeply one last time, before slowly crawling off of him, and limping to the bathroom.

Ian lay there panting, he got up and followed her into the bathroom. They cleaned up and Emily asked him if he cared if she smoked one last time. He shook his head. He watched her light up, and exhale the minty smoke in the moonlight and poured himself a glass of gin. He sipped slowly, following her onto the balcony. She smiled at him, her half naked body positively glowing, he didn't know if it was an after-sex glow or the glow of pregnancy, or if she was just happy with him for once. All he knew was Emily Prentiss had never looked more beautiful to him than she did right now.

Eventually her cigarette went out and she limped back to bed, he told her he'd join her in a moment. He took another sip of his gin, thinking hard. _**Guess we're going back to DC…**_


	28. Birthdays

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks so much for your reviews! Keep em coming! Haha yeahhhh I honestly don't know yet how or even if the team finds out about Ian…I have some ideas but who knows? Lol it was actually a spur of the moment decision to have them move back to DC, so we'll see ;) Lots more sex scenes to come as well so be on the lookout ;) also more Declan, I know you guys were asking about him a lot. Yes he WILL be back in a slightly more major role I promise. : ) OH I finished the music vid! Here's the link! Tell me what you think in the reviews! .com/watch?v=zPATE1ANyFQ

But fuck it now I'm 'bout to draw the line  
>And for you to cross it that's a mountain that I doubt you wanna climb…<p>

Eminem—"The Warning"

Emily yawned and stood up slowly. Her ankle was finally starting to heel, but on the downside her ankles were starting to swell, she had just turned 7 months pregnant and things around here were finally starting to take a turn for the normal. She, Ian and Declan had come to DC to look for houses. They had found a nice gated community, with semi-monstrous houses.

She rolled her eyes. She'd wanted just a nice 2 story home with just enough bedrooms for the four of them. She'd been vetoed. The houses weren't mansions on any level, but they were much larger than any house she would ever want to have to clean. She'd put her foot down on having any staff of any kind. No housekeepers, no nannys, no drivers. She wanted them to have a nice family life if this was the life she was coerced into living. She'd been struggling with that recognition ever since she'd been rescued by Ian. A part of her resented him, because if not for him, that would have never happened to her. But another part of her was relieved, he HAD come for her, even though she had doubted he would.

She no longer felt like Ian had kidnapped her, even though she had no delusions that he HAD. She just didn't feel the danger like she used to. Not that his temper still didn't need work, but other than restraining her during a few of their fights, he hadn't hit her since she'd come back. He threw stuff, broke things, but he had restrained himself from hurting her, which to her she considered personal growth…maybe.

She still hadn't told anyone she was back yet. Ian had given her her own cell phone, that came attached with a warning. Don't tell ANYONE, not yet. She'd been a little puzzled as to why, but she hadn't pushed the issue.

When they had finally picked a nice 3 story house with a finished basement, and in-ground pool and hot-tub, the task of moving had been a chore and a half. Ian had wanted to just buy all new things, but she had pointed out that until he got a new job, money wasn't disposable anymore. Buying everything new was entirely impractical. So SHE'D been designated the task of overseeing everything was shipped and organized the way she wanted it. She'd kicked her own ass for that because being pregnant and making countless arrangements for furniture, clothing, and electronics to be shipped from the middle east to Virginia was a terrible idea. She was grouchy with the movers, she yelled at people on the other end of the phone, and most importantly she was miserable. She was growing by the minute meaning her clothes didn't fit right and standing for a long period of time was painful. She wasn't even supposed to be up out of bed, but she felt fine so she pushed the limit as often as she could get away with it.

Declan had started school back up almost the day after they'd bought the house. He wanted to go to the same school as before, much to Ian's protests. He wanted Declan to go the private Catholic school in the same district. Declan had thrown an absolute nightmarish temper tantrum, obviously inherited from his father. He'd smashed his xbox controller with his foot, then kicked it into the wall. She'd had to step in between the two of them, because she could see Ian's temper rising to a dangerous level, as Declan yelled and screamed and slammed doors. She'd grabbed onto Ian's arms pushing him backwards out of the room. "Just let him throw a fit. Kids do it all the time!" She'd tried reasoning. Ian's eyes looked furious. He'd gone on a rant about no child of his would ever disrespect an adult like that again. Declan had since then been grounded, all the games, tv, systems, radio, iPod everything was taken out of his room. He was furious. He gave both Ian and her the silent treatment for a week before he got over it.

Emily walked down the hallway to the wrought iron spiral staircase that led down into the kitchen. Ian had gone into the city to meet with an investment banker he knew well and trusted with his money. Ian was a certified billionaire to put it bluntly, so there had to be an explanation from where all of this money came from. He also had some major import and export business left to him by his "father" back in Ireland. Or at least that's what people were to believe. They were due to go car shopping this afternoon. Ian had arranged for them to go look at two matching Mercedes S-Guards or Mercedes Guardians as they were more commonly called. Those cars had probably cost more than their house, but they were absolutely attack resistant. They had the capability to withstand military-grade small arms fire and certain explosive devices, a self-sealing fuel tank, and a special alarm system, not to mention the run-flat tires. Ian felt these were the safest cars for them considering his previous profession, but Ian was also paranoid…

Knowing Ian he'd probably already bought the stupid cars but was just prolonging the foreplay by letting her THINK she actually had a choice in the matter. She sighed anyways, slipping on her sandals.

She hollered up the stairs for Declan to come down because the cab was there to take them to meet Ian at the dealer.

Once they reached the lot it took them no more than an hour, because as she'd predicted he'd came, he saw, he bought… Typical. As he handed her the key he said, "Happy Birthday, Love," she'd looked at him in shock. How had he remembered her birthday? How come she hadn't remembered her birthday?

"Thank you, Ian." She said slowly, still staring at him strangely.

"What's wrong, Em?" He said concernedly as he noticed her odd expression. "If you don't like it we can pick out another car…" He said still holding the key in front of her.

"No, No… The car is wonderful," she said, which it was exquisite, "I—I just forgot my own birthday…" She said very quietly. It was weird. She normally loved birthdays, but she felt nothing today. She felt just like any other day. "How did you remember?" She asked incredulously.

"Emily, I've loved you nearly since the day I met you 8 years ago. I spent 7 years in a North Korean prison thinking about my son, and you… You don't think I memorized every little detail about you down to your favorite brand of mascara?" He said in a low voice chuckling.

"My favorite what?" She asked, laughing. "You cannot possibly know that…"

"L'Oreal Lash Out Mascara," he said smugly crossing his arms.

"Get outta here. It is not." She said scoffing. How the fuck did he know that?

"Yes it is, you put it on at least 3 times a day and you have 3 tubes in the bathroom, one in the downstairs bathroom, and one in your purse." He said smirking, looking like the smartass he was. She grabbed the key out of his hand, rolling her eyes at him. "Fine, what else are we doing since it my birthday." She asked feigning seriousness.

"Well, I was thinking we could drive to dinner, then you need to get your tiny ass back into bed, and off your feet."

"I was in bed all day!" She whined.

"Emily…" He said warningly like he always did when he said her name like that.

"Why do always have to say my name like that?" she pouted.

"Well maybe after we have a lovely dinner, get you back into bed, then maybe I can give you your other present." He said seriously.

"Well why can't you give it to me at dinner?" She asked.

"Emily, I know you have a crazy side to you, but I doubt you want to show everyone at the restaurant this particular present," he said winking before walking away getting in his car. She stood there dumbfounded. He always had the last word_…Damn Bastard_.


	29. Labor

A/N: Hey guys! K so since fanfiction dot net sucks the big one, it refuses to let me post links to anywhere, I.E. my Ian/Emily playlist, or youtube vids! SO: If you wanna watch the music vids, go to youtube and type in: xXluluXx320 that's my username and it will pull up a vid that says Emily Prentiss/Ian Doyle, click that one then you should be able to find the other one. There are 2 Em/Ian vids and a twilight one! And if you do watch them be sure to comment and let me know what you think!

Happy Reading!

**Consider** how hard it is to change yourself and you'll understand what little chance you have in trying to change others.  
><em> Benjamin Franklin<em>

1 ½ Months Later

*Slam!*

Ian grabbed his jacket off the hook in the garage and fumbled for his keys. He could hear Emily screaming from inside the house.

"Go Fuck Yourself!" He yelled back, opening the door to the Mercedes. Immediately the smell of that damned Pina Colada air freshener assaulted his nose. _Goddamn it. Wrong one. That's the problem with getting bloody identical cars_, he thought irritatedly. He got out, and walked to the other shiny black car parked next to it. He needed to get out of here. Quickly.

They'd been back in DC almost two months now. Emily was a tad more than 8 months pregnant and things had been going great, until this morning. It had started out fine. A normal Saturday morning for them. He'd gotten up, took their new dog, a blue pit bull named Poseidon, or Posse as Declan called him, for a walk, come back and woken up Declan and they made breakfast together, then woke up Emily and they all ate a nice breakfast as a family.

Then things started to go south. Garcia had called Emily in a panic. Derek had seen Emily and Declan and himself at a grocery store in Fairfax County, closer to the city. He hadn't gotten a good look, but he had mentioned it to Garcia, asking if she'd heard from Emily recently. So far Garcia was the only one who knew they had come back into the States, and he'd ground his teeth on that one. They hadn't figured out a way to tell everyone, well… anything.

They couldn't say he was himself. Hotch and Derek would never stop hunting him, but if he showed himself, it would be about obvious who he was. Now while it was the God's honest truth that he did in fact have, well had, a twin, it was doubtful anyone on her former team would buy it. Emily, wanting to be the peacemaker, wanted to tell them all, one at a time, promising they would understand, once they saw her, that she was okay and happy… and very pregnant. He had told her absolutely NOT. No chance in hell he was having the BAU poke around their lives, friends or not. She knew they were relentless, at least the men… and they hated him. Every last one of them. The only reason Garcia didn't was because it was in her nature to be forgiving and friendly, but that didn't necessarily mean she trusted him. She did come over occasionally to have dinner with them or babysit Declan. She'd become more comfortable around him, but between the three of them they had no idea how to tell the story.

Emily had been furious at his refusal. She'd told him he didn't care about her feelings and blah blah blah… He'd heard it all before. It wasn't their first fight, and it sure as hell wouldn't be their last. He'd been more than lenient with her, hell he'd been bending over backwards for her! He'd given up his career, his whole life, just to be a family with her and his son, and their future child. The fights they'd had recently had been petty arguments but this one, this one had been a little more. She'd pushed him in the hallway and he'd tripped over one of Declan's damned remote control trucks that he'd been told to pick up three times already. He'd fallen backwards, but caught himself on the railing next to him. And the next thing he knew, he was walking away from Emily who was on the floor her mouth bleeding onto the white carpet, and the toy truck was smashed into a billion little pieces on the floor at the end of the hallway behind her.

He didn't even know what he'd done and he didn't want to. He just wanted to get the hell out of here before he did something that hurt the baby, or her (anymore) than he apparently had…

He drove around looking for something to do. Any other time he would have gone to drink, but he didn't have a bloody car service anymore so, drunk driving was a no. He got onto an interstate heading for downtown DC. He didn't know where he was going and wasn't really sure he had a clue how to get back, thank god almighty this damned car had GPS.

"Find Florist." He grumbled at the Bluetooth. Seeing as how he couldn't remember what he'd done, he'd need some hardcore ammunition to get back into Emily's good graces. "Nevermind, Find Jewlery Store." He commanded. He rolled his eyes as the woman's annoying voice came over the speaker telling him that she had found 459 Jewelry stores in a 50 mile radius of DC. He just picked the first one on the list, also being the closest, and let the GPS guide him. 2 Hours later he was headed out of the store with a bag full of expensive ass jewelry that probably cost about as much as their house had. He'd gotten her a Chocolate diamond pendant necklace in the shape of her favorite flower, with a white gold stem and chain. Then he'd bought her a platinum BVLGARI watch and some Harry Winston diamond earrings.

On his way home, he wondered what kind of shit storm he was about to walk into. She'd called about 12 times since he'd left and he hadn't answered any of them. What was he supposed to say? _Sure Emily, we can tell your former boss, and the rest of your very nosy and relentless team that I have resurrected myself from the dead and blessed you with the gift of my offspring?_ Yes, that would go over SO well…

All he could picture was her crumpled on the floor, in front of the end table in the hallway, mouth bleeding all over the floor. Her hands covered her mouth so he hadn't been able to see where the blood was precisely coming from, and at the time he hadn't cared. He hadn't started this fight. He hadn't made the first blow. She'd pushed him first! He shook his head as he pulled back into the driveway of their gated community home. It looked a little too cookie cutter for him, hell there were about 12 other massive houses with almost the same floor plan as theirs, but it was in a safe, secured neighborhood, and in a cul de sac. For Emily. He shut the car off and closed the garage door. He didn't get out of the car yet. He wasn't sure what he'd done, how bad the damage was…

Slowly the door that led into the house opened a crack and a little blonde head stuck out from behind the door. Declan. Ian sighed, looking down at his hands that still gripped the steering wheel. Shit. God. Just when things were finally starting to look good for their family, he thought he'd been changing for the better, but maybe he'd never change. He wanted his son to look up to him, not hide behind the door, or even follow in his previous footsteps, even though that had always been his original plan way back when, in Italy.

Looking up, he used two fingers to motion Declan over to him. Declan slowly tip-toed over to Ian who stood up out of the car.

"How bad is your Mother?" Ian asked sternly, hands on his hips. Declan had taken to calling Emily "Mom" lately and Ian felt it was appropriate, she was for all intensive purposes his mother. Had, been, for a long time in his eyes.

"She seems okay …" He said hands behind his back spinning side to side.

"What is she doing now?" Ian asked crossing his arms looking behind Declan at the doorway, where Posiedon stood drooling, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

"Umm, I think she's cleaning the carpet…I dunno… She said I had to stay downstairs, something about you guys were arguing and she accidentally spilled her Hawaiian Punch on the carpet… But she told me I couldn't help. I told her I would! I promise, I offered to help clean Dad, but she wouldn't let me!" Declan said earnestly. It had been a new rule in their house the since they no longer had housekeeping Declan and him would help Emily with the cleaning. That included offering before having to be asked or told to do something.

"I'm sure you did, Son," he said sighing rubbing his forehead, it was bad enough she was bleeding, nevermind scrubbing her own blood out of the carpet while she was almost 8 and half months pregnant. Bloody hell this was a fucking nightmare. "Declan I need you to take Poseidon outside for a while." Ian said motioning towards the dog wagging his tail in the doorway.

"K," was all he said before darting back into the laundry room with the dog waddling behind him.

Ian grabbed the bags of jewelry boxes from the front seat and ventured precariously into the house. He could hear her scrubbing the carpet furiously from the bottom of the stairs. He left the bags on the table at the bottom of the stairs, and slowly walked up stairs. Her back was to him and she was on her hands and knees scrubbing a pale red stain with Clorox. He stood there with his arms crossed for a moment assessing the situation. She didn't even know he was standing there until he finally spoke.

"Emily, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" He asked very calmly, raising one eyebrow at her.

She jumped about a foot in the air, dumping the bottle of Clorox she'd been using.

"Ian! You scared me!" She yelled at him, moaning as she looked back at the spilled bottle. "Dammit." She grumbled.

"Okay, I'll repeat my self a little more clearly. What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Think. You're. Doing?" He said slowly, approaching her, so that he towered over her. He got a good look at her face now. Her lip and chin had a scrape on it, which confused him. She also had gauze stuffed into her bottom gum area, like chewing tobacco. This confused him even more. How the fuck had he managed that?

"I—I needed to clean it up… The blood. Declan shouldn't see that… Plus the dog would go ape shit… " She blubbered. Ian knealt down next to her taking her chin gently into his hand, examining it more closely. She winced.

"Emily, what happened?" He asked sternly, but a slight look of worry flooded his features.

"What do you mean? You were there." She said

"I honestly don't remember anything, except tripping and next thing I know I was walking away from you and you were on the floor." He looked down at the carpet, hatred for himself consuming him. "Emily what did I do to you now?" He asked. She looked at him with an expression of pity and pain.

"Ian you didn't do this… Well, not entirely." She said looking down at her fingers that were all shriveled and bleached white. "Whe—When I pushed you, you fell, and you grabbed the railing, you caught yourself." She took a shuddering breath then said, "Then you picked up the truck and like, came towards me, I thought maybe you were going to hit me with it, s—so I turned away from you to run down the hallway, and I twisted my ankle and I heard a crash, the truck, you threw it against the wall—and when I twisted my ankle I fell and hit my chin on the corner of this table, and I think I might've passed out for a minute, next thing I knew you were really still, an-and you walked away…" She said starting to cry.

Ian breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't good news, but it wasn't what he'd expected either. He put his arms underneath her, and lifted her to a standing position as he held her against his chest. He stroked her hair, shhshing her as she cried.

"Emily, why didn't you just wait to clean up the blood? You know I would have done it myself, or had the carpet cleaners come." He said kissing the top of her head.

"Because ... We're going to have company. I didn't want anyone to see it. Think bad things, you know…" She said slowly.

"Emily. What company? What did you do?" He said closing his eyes counting to ten, forcing himself to use a calm steady tone.

"Everyone's coming to dinner." She said, her arms still wrapped around his chest, burying her head deeper into his chest.

"Emily I said No! I meant it!" He said pulling her away from him to look her in the eye.

"It's too late. They're on their way." She said defiantly, her bottom lip still puffy, and sticking out.

"Goddammit, Woman can you not listen to ONE motherfucking thing I say?" He said angrily throwing his arms in the air. "You did this on purpose. You know what they'll do to us. TO OUR FAMILY." He said glaring at her. God how he hated her at this moment. He hadn't hated her this much since he thought she'd killed his son. She was going to rui—

"Oh God, Ian!" She cried suddenly as a wet spot grew larger and larger on her khaki pants. He froze. Oh no. Not now, no way. She still had another 2-3 weeks to go!

"Emily!" He said urgently as he put an arm under her to support her. He half carried her down the stairs to the garage. He yelled for Declan to hurry and put the dog up, that Emily was having the baby. NOW. He ran back inside to grab her baby go-bag and purse.

As they all piled into the car, he called Garcia on his cell and told her that Emily was in labor. He held the phone about arms length away from his ear as she squealed shrilly in his ear. Emily just smiled as she took the gauze out of her lip, and looked at it in the mirror. The bleeding had stopped, but she had a gash in her lower right gum area and had torn completely the little thing that connected your lip to your gum in the middle. She winced as she attempted to put cover up on the scrape, which helped but the swelling was unmistakable.

She groaned as a contraction wracked her body. Ian drove like a mad man to the Emergency room. He got off the phone with Garcia, and checked Emily in. He looked around him shrewdly… Well if the team had all been heading to the house, they were surely headed here now… Maybe it was better this way… Maybe.

P.S. The whole falling and hitting your chin and ripping your gum and whatever that little thing in your mouth is , is a true story… I got out of bed one day, got dizzy, passed out hit my face on the corner of a bookshelf on the way to the bathroom. Bam! It sucks. Didn't hit my teeth or anything, just scraped my chin, had a big gash in my lower gum (which they cant put stitches in btw) and tore whatever that damn little piece of skin connected from your bottom lip to your gum is… and it never grew back so now I don't have one! Just a fun little anecdote for y'all! lol


	30. Baby Makes?

A/N: Hey sorry it took me a few days to upload this chapter. I had to do some research to make it at least semi-plausible! Lol Anyhoo thank you all of my Wonderful reviewers you guys rock. And I hope I don't turn any of you off at this chapter. I had a hard time trying to decide who would be "unfriended from facebook," at least for the time being. And it was hard because I love them all, but FEAR NOT, whoever it is, will be back I promise. SO HERE GOES… HAPPY READING!

_6789

"**When**shit goes down and sides are taken, you find out who was real and who was fakin."—Anonymous

Emily pushed again. This time harder than she ever had before. The pain was excruciating. She had never want an epidural until this very moment and she now understood why. She felt like she was pulling out her insides with a pair of rusty tongs. She had begged for an epidural, but the nurse had told her she was under a doctor's orders not to give her one. Emily was confused because the doctor had already come in here once, looked at the ultrasound and left the room without saying a word.

Ian stood in the corner; arms crossed a pissy look on his face. He was still mad about this morning she assumed. Right now she didn't care. She'd been in slow labor for almost 30 hours now. Garcia had been allowed in as her secondary person, because her mother wasn't in the country at the moment and even if she was Emily wouldn't have let her on the same floor level as herself, because she was so testy at the moment she might have killed her own mother. The woman was a political insensitive, bossy, intrusive, woman and Emily had enough trouble admitting they were even related to each other to let alone have HER in the delivery room, bossing all the nurses and doctors around. Ian was bad enough. When he wasn't standing silently in the corner, he was pacing back and forth in front of the bed, bitching about the doctors and nurses and the hospital they were in and that it was much simpler when Declan had been born and on and on. She'd finally snapped telling him to either enjoy the birth of their child where they were, whatever the situation or to get out. He'd given her a look and, "Emily…" With that dangerous edge to his voice. But she wasn't scared of him now. What was he gonna do? They were in a crowded hospital! "Don't you, "Emily" me, Ian Doyle, because I swear to god once I am able to get up out of this bed you will regret ever pissing me off understand?" She'd barked out, before another contraction hit.

Finally, the doctor came in; Emily listened in horror as they told her she needed to undergo an emergency cesarean section.

"Why?" She asked frantically. She felt Ian move closer to her shoulder, putting a steady hand on her shoulder.

"Well, Mrs.…Doyle, it appears that in your previous ultrasound something very critical was hiding behind the baby…" The doctor said looking at her chart. She bit her lip…She'd signed herself in as Mrs. Connolly Doyle. She'd had Garcia make her plans come together by obtaining, Connolly's real birth certificate from Ireland, and had asked her to obtain a marriage certificate and forged Ian's name to it, and had it signed by a judge who was a friend of hers. She and Ian were officially married, so that A) their child would be legitimate, and B) if something were to go wrong, she could not be called to testify against him, spousal privilege and all that jazz. The only problem was that she hadn't told Ian yet. They had talked about him assuming his brother's identity anyways, now it was just on paper…

She tuned back into what the Doctor was now explaining…

"Wait What?" She yelled. She could have sworn he'd just said babies… as in plural…as in more than one…

"I was just explaining that sometimes ultrasounds are not 100% accurate. It's actually a fairly common problem when they are in the early trimesters, for a twin to be hidden behind the other." He said very calmly and matter of factly.

Emily turned around in a panic to look at Ian's face. He looked like he was about to faint. He stood there like a statue, white as marble; the vein on the side of his head throbbing. His heart was positively racing.

She clutched at the hand on her shoulder. He was squeezing too hard. "Ian!" She cried out. He snapped out of his daze, but instead of looking even more irritated than he already was at her, his features softened. He, He was…happy? They were about to have twins!

40 minutes later Emily was being carted down the hallway to the OR, where she watched anxiously as the doctors took not one but two beautiful babies from her. When they were done checking the babies, they handed her a perfect little tiny baby girl…She smiled at her screaming little baby Lauren Jaina Doyle. The nurse took Lauren from her and handed her the most beautiful baby boy Emily had ever laid eyes upon. Ian had picked out Lauren's name, because "that was the first name I ever called you, the love of my life. And so shall she… "

They had picked out several boys names because she'd been absolutely certain she'd been having a boy. Now she had a conundrum at her feet, she'd always said that if she had twins she wanted them to have the same initials. Since Lauren's were LJD, she needed to pick a name from their list for her son. Landen Jacen Doyle. Landen and Lauren. Emily smiled tiredly as she held him for a moment before letting the neonatologist look at them more closely. They were 3 weeks early. Which really isn't too unusual, but no matter if she wanted to hold them longer or not, it was better that the neonate doctor looked them over thoroughly. Ian stood in the waiting room waiting anxiously, and they scrubbed him in so he could hold his 2 new children. Emily watched happily as the doctors closed her up, she was so happy they were finally here. Even though she'd swore she would never have another child after what she'd done 25 years ago, she couldn't help but be happy in spite of herself.

123456789

Emily awoke later to hushed voices arguing at the end of her bed. Ian and Garcia were whispering in hushed tones. Emily closed her eyes, but continued to listen in.

"But you cant know that!" Garcia said.

"Penelope, those 4 men out there have it IN FOR ME. I know Derek himself recruited you specifically in his personal manhunt for me." Ian said bitterly.

"Yes, but only because I loved Emily, and I am the best at what I do…" She said pleadingly. Ian rubbed his forehead as paced back and forth. "Ian, trust me. Emily had me do some things to make sure they couldn't do anything to you guys."

"Like what? What could possibly stop them from shooting me right here and now?"

"Well for one, you aren't you. I got Connolly's Irish birth certificate, you still have his license right? K, so Emily had me get a marriage certificate and she forged your signature, and had a judge friend of hers sign it over a weekend, so now you guys are technically married…Well She married your brother, who is who you are now. Anyways long story short, they cant make Emily testify against you!" Garcia said whispering urgently.

"Yeah, but whats to stop them from arresting me in the first place?" Ian said pointedly, motioning outside angrily.

"Well We have to explain that you DID indeed have a twin, because I, Wonderess Empress of all Things Hidden and Digitized, confirmed through the orphanage you lived in Belfast , also I have copies of both you and your brothers birth certificates, which by the way, was no easy feat. Your Irish hospitals have much to be desired in the way of electronically stored records. Anyways, so we tell them you are Ian Doyles twin, I will offer proof myself, and if push comes to shove they can test your DNA. Which they probably will. Just saying…" She said in a rush.

"Yes, and the damned DNA will match! Twins share the same DNA, you of all people should know that…" Ian said derisively.

"Yes, indeed they do and that will be the clincher!" She said excitedly. "BUTTTTT Twins have DIFFERENT fingerprints!" She said grinning. "The fingerprints of Ian Doyle when you were arrested by INTERPOL have been destroyed because they didn't want anyone finding out about the whole deal with North Korea, so the only fingerprints that are in the system is the ones they took of your brother when Morgan found him. HIS fingerprints as "Ian Doyle" won't match yours! The whole case will crumble into itty bitty pieces my friend. Hotch won't even be able to deny it, and he was a former prosecutor!" She said emphatically.

Ian sighed. He was uneasy about this, Emily could tell even with her eyes shut. He was truly worried, but he needed to have a little faith.

"So are you ready?" Emily spoke up, eyes still closed partially.

"Oh good Em, you're awake. Tell Ian everything's gonna be fine! Tell him you know I wouldn't do anything that would hurt you 'cuz you're like my best friend!" Garcia said pouncing on her with a giant hug. Emily winced. "OH GOD! My bad my bad!I totally forgot about your staples!" Garcia cried.

"You're fine Garcia, I've been through worse, trust me…" Emily said winking at Ian. He looked away from her ashamed. "Ian, I'm just kidding, I wasn't necessarily referring to you…I've gotten my ass kicked plenty of times while you were gone…Relax."

"Well let me bring JJ in first, she'll take the news best probably." Garcia said.

Emily tried to push herself into a sitting position, Ian stood right next to her on her right, holding her hand.

Emily took a deep breath and reminded herself. This was the only way to have the 2 most important things in life, family and friends. This was her idea…

He was cutting off her circulation when she had to say, "Ian!" Hurriedly right as the door opened. To everyone else he was Connolly now…


	31. Introductions

A/N: Hey guys sorry Ive been a little MIA. So here's the chapter KUDOS have to go to TheTruthBetween for catching my not so subtle Star Wars reference so. Five Stars for you ))) Oh and side note: The quote from last chapter was supposed to be for this one so it's repeated, sorry. Ians POV btw.

12345

"**When**shit goes down and sides are taken, you find out who was real and who was fakin."—Anonymous

Ian braced himself. He stood right next to Emily's bedside, the coward in him told him to stand behind her in the corner. The idiot/Irish warrior in him forced himself to square up and take it like a man. They had discussed this only few times prior to today, and there was only a slim chance they could arrest him. For one, he wasn't himself and they would have a hell of a time proving it, seeing as how his brother's body had already been cremated, may he rest in peace. He took a deep breath as Emily said his name as the door opened slowly. Emily had a death grip on his hand. She was surely cracking every bone in it.

Jennifer Jareau stuck her head in around the door, not noticing him yet.

"Heeyyyyy there Em! How ya feeling?" She asked.

"I think I'll live. I mean really I've had worse scars than this." Emily said sarcastically, squeezing his hand tightly twice.

"Yeah, you definitely hav—" JJ's eyes finally looked up to look at him. Immediately she held her breath and stepped back. Hand reaching for a gun that was not there. She wasn't on duty. Ian breathed a sigh of relief. He said nothing letting Emily make the introductions.

"Emily what the hell? Emily HE'S dead! We were all there. I…I can't…What the hell is going on?" JJ cried out backing away from him and Emily.

"JJ wait! It's not what you think, this isn't Ian! It's not JJ I swear to god. This is not Ian… He's Ian's identical twin. JJ, this is Connolly Doyle. Declan's uncle, annddd my new husband." Emily said quickly grimacing at the last part. JJ looked positively ghost-like. He glanced out the blinds and saw Garcia talking with Declan. This plan had better go off without a hitch or so help him. He prayed a small prayer for his son, and newborn children. He wanted to be around to see them grow up.

He tuned back into the conversation JJ and Emily were having. Oh jeeesus. Both women were sobbing and hugging each other, talking about the twins and cesarean sections and all that nonsense. He couldn't help but go and look again out of the blinds.

JJ turned to him finally, wiping away tears, she out held a hand.

"Hi, my names Jennifer, you might hear Emily call me JJ. It-ts umm very nice to meet you, I'm sorry what was your name again?" She asked with a weak smile. Emily positively beamed. He had to control the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah sure she believed Emily, but the men would be the real victory.

He stretched out a hand to shake hers. "Connolly, ma'am," he said with a pleasant smile.

"Please, just call me JJ." She said wiping her eyes again. "I'd better let the others come see you before you get too tired. I'll come back tomorrow k? We can talk more then."

"Great, it's so good to see you; I really, really missed you." Emily said. "Hey JJ, umm is there a way you can like prepare the guys—"

"Emily… I don't know. It's a really farfetched story. I doubt it will matter much what I say… I'll try to get them to have an open mind," JJ said doubtfully.

"Yeahhh, you're probably right. Thanks JJ," Emily said, visibly depressed to see her go. Immediately her fingernails went to her mouth. Here we go… God he hated that habit… Plus it was a dead giveaway that she was up to something.

"Emily stop doing that. Now. You're going to make it about obvious we're hiding something if you act like a nervous 10 year old." Ian snapped.

Emily looked at him, with a hurt expression on her face. This was just as hard on her as it was for him, He looked away from her. He couldn't look at her when her big brown eyes turned on him like that…

"Sorry." He mumbled.

Then there was a knock and Reid and Hotch came in. Ian stood facing the window not turning around as Emily got her hellos and I missed yous out of the way, and she said "Connolly, here's some more people I used to work with." Slowly he turned around and Spencer and Hotch both reached for their guns.

"Guys! Guys! Wait…" Emily cried out.

"Emily, this man is a psychopath, he can fake love and empathy, but he'll never really care about you." Hotch said very seriously, as he aimed his gun. Ian stood confidently with his arms crossed, watching back and forth like a tennis match.

"No Hotch! It's not him! It—its-"

"Emily," Spencer interrupted her, "Emily look at the stuff he's done, what he did to you, he's completely psychotic, and I know you want to see the best in everybody but you can't Emily—He will never change it's a lifelong affliction…Not to mention he's supposed to be dead!" Spencer rambled on quickly like he tended to do, according to Emily.

"LISTEN TO ME!" Emily commanded loudly, both men looked at her, but did not lower their weapons.

"THIS man is not Ian Doyle. This is his twin brother Connolly Doyle. They were together at the orphanage in Ireland. Connolly was adopted. Ian was not."

"Emily there's nothing in your INTERPOL profile about him having a brother, you didn't even put in that he had a son!"

"That was only to protect that child from any more pain and for another thing, Ian NEVER mentioned even having a brother, they'd been on the outs with each other since childhood!" She said getting angry now. Ian sidled over to her, and put his hand on her shoulder. He knew Emily better than anyone. She was one sentence away from ripping out her IV and trying to stand up, staples or no staples; simply to fight with these two men.

"Emily…" He said warningly pushing her down inconspicuously.

"Don't Emily me! They're being unreasonable. Guns? In a hospital room? What if the babies were in here, huh? Or Declan?" She said starting to yell, looking over her shoulder at him, who still had a good grip on her shoulder.

Hotch and Reid looked at each other, and hesitantly lowered their guns, not putting them away completely though.

"Emily. Is this why you left the BAU?" Reid asked. "Because of him, or who is brother is I should say."

"Was." Ian spoke up.

"Excuse me?" Reid asked.

"Who my brother **was**. He's dead right? You all saw that bitch shoot him right?" He asked sternly. Again Hotch and Reid looked at each other… Surprisingly Agent Hotchner was the first to reholster his weapon. Slowly, following suit Reid tucked away his revolver.

"Emily I—" Hotch started to say.

"Don't worry. It's all legit. Garcia did some digging for me before I left. To make sure…you know that Ian was really, you know. Dead."

Emily interrupted before he could say anything. "Well I had twins, since that's why you're here right?" She said firmly changing the topic.

"Twins?" Hotch asked incredulously.

"Must run in the family…" She said nodding her head towards Ian.

"Technically the genes that are known to produce twins are known to most of the time skip a generation." Reid said spouting off more statistics about twins. He then moved on to grilling Ian all about his childhood with, well himself, as Spencer was fascinated to learn how Ian's behavior was as a child. Meanwhile Hotch and Emily talked in low voices about the other two men waiting outside. Rossi would not be the problem, they agreed, but Morgan. Morgan had a certain hatred for Ian on a deeper level, and a) would not persuade so easily without hard proof. Which Emily told Agent Hotchner that Garcia had all the evidence they needed; and b) he might see this as a betrayal by her. Which she had been expecting from some of them she admitted. Morgan had a reason to distrust her after the whole faking her own death, which had hit him, pretty hard.

Emily sighed, calling his name back over to her bedside. It was time to bring in the last two. Rossi would understand, he was older, wiser, and he and Emily appeared to have a fairly close relationship. After all, Agent Rossi was the only other she'd told about her abortion. Ian rubbed his temples… This was going to be difficult. He wanted to protect Emily from their anger. He had a feeling Reid would recover, Hotch would never completely be at ease, but he would believe the "proof" that Garcia produced. He was thankful Garcia was there to keep Declan occupied, he was very anxious to see his little baby brother and sister. Lauren and Landen. Ian himself was getting antsy, he wondered what was taking the doctors so long with the twins.  
>The door turned for what would hopefully be the last time as Spencer waved, Agent Hotchner stood behind him, blocking the doorway whispering something to Rossi and Morgan. They looked at him awfully funny but, in little flashes Ian saw them hand over their guns to Hotch. Agent Hotchner put his hand on Rossi's shoulder before waving to Emily.<p>

Rossi and Morgan stepped into the room. Automatically they looked to Emily, and then their eyes locked. Rossi looked like he'd seen a ghost, but smiled at Emily none the less squeezing her hand, sitting down in the chair next to her. He understood why Agent Hotchner had asked for their weapons, Morgan's especially. Their first instinct would have been to shoot. Morgan's face flooded with boiling anger and hate. It was all Ian could do as another Alpha male not to step between Morgan and Emily in defense. He stood calmly next to Emily and waited for her to start.

"Morgan. Listen to me! Listen to me dammit!" She barked at him. He'd started pacing like Ian himself did when agitated.

"Emily how could you? After all that's happened? How the hell is he even alive? I watched him die. This is some kind of sick joke right? Well it's not funny, Emily." Morgan fumed.

"Morgan if you'd just listen—" Emily started, but was cut off.

"Emily I am doing everything in my power not to jump over this goddamn bed and kill him with my own hands, see the lights leave his fucking eyes, after all that bastard did to you!" Morgan said tightly, visibly trying to keep his voice low.

"Morgan he's not Ian. Well, DNA wise he is, but he is a different man than the Ian Doyle you knew. And what little you knew of him, anyways…" Emily said smiling at Ian.

This was a rough day for him, he'd been reminded far too many times of what he'd done to her. How he really had almost killed her. It was a miracle she was alive. And times like that made him think that there was a God up there, who did answer prayers, because after he'd vanished he'd swore he would trade his life for her to live, just please to let her live. He'd tried to start over, but the new road is like a gravel road. You go too fast and bad things can happen. You can't stop on time. And the next time god forbid there ever be a next time, Emily might not be so lucky. He HAD to learn to control his temper. If not for her, then for their children…

"Emily what are you talking about? The man is standing right next to you!" Morgan yelled.

"THIS IS HIS TWIN MORGAN!" She yelled right back, before wincing in pain. She'd stretched her staples. Morgan looked dumbfounded, Rossi just sat quietly still holding Emily's hand.

"Knock, Knock!" A perky blonde nurse knocked on the door peeping her head in around the door. "I believe these two angels belong to you?" She asked pulling a cart that had a heated clear box shape, in which a baby in green and a baby in pink, laid fingers and toes curled.

"Who do you guys wanna hold first?" The obnoxiously cheerful nurse asked, oblivious to the almost violent tension that could be cut with a knife.

Emily snapped out of it first, "I'll hold Landen." The nurse gently handed her the baby in green. Before reaching in and picking the infant in pink. "Are you daddy?" She asked Ian. All he could do was nod. He reached his arms out, remembering what it felt like to Hold Declan for the first time. He smiled down at her, and he felt a warm feeling flood his emotions. The drama with Morgan seemed somewhere else.

Next thing they knew the door was being slammed shut. Morgan had left. Emily just looked at Rossi and then at Ian. Her eyes welled with tears and she hugged baby Landen to her chest, as she cried. In that moment Ian felt his heart break for her. He couldn't help like feeling all of this was his fault…


	32. Always Be My Baby

Emily stepped out onto the deck that hovered over their patio on the floor below. The twins were asleep and Declan was entertained watching something on Netflix in the play room. She reached into her back pocket and took out a teal and white pack of Newport menthols. Ian would flip if he caught her, but she didn't really care…

She was still obsessing over how the team had met Ian 12 weeks ago. Since then, Hotch had brought Jack over for a couple of playdates with Declan, who was still older than Jack but they had fun anyways. Her house had been torn upside down, but Ian insisted it was fine. Boys will be Boys. She took a puff and snorted. Of course he would say that. Bastard hadn't had to clean up after a kid in his life.

JJ had brought over meals while she recovered from her C-section. It was ironic to her that the c-section had been the least of her more recent problems. Rossi and Reid called her at least twice a week, just to ramble and chat. Kevin and Garcia had come over to visit and have dinners with Emily and Ian. Kevin was actually teaching Ian how to mess around with computers. She'd been suspicious as to why Ian wanted to know so much about computers now. Right now, she was with the twins, while Ian went to meet "an old friend" in the city. Emily was growing more agitated with him by the second. He kept meeting all these "friends" in secret and leaving her home alone with the twins more than usual. She was worried he was slipping back into the lifestyle he had sworn to forsake… But even that was not what was bothering her the most. Out of all of her former teammates, the only one she hadn't heard a word from was Morgan…

At the hospital, Spencer had said that Ian could fake empathy and love, but he would never feel it. But…. Emily French inhaled deeply, she had watched as He'd held Lauren for the first time. There was genuine love there. No one could fake the deep love that a mother or father felt for a newborn baby. Never having had a child of her very own, Emily now understood why Ian would have moved hell and Earth to find Declan. She almost felt guilty for hiding Declan, if she hadn't known it was truly safer for him. She could only imagine the anguish Ian had felt in prison, as she thought about how she would feel if something happened to one of the twins.

She took another puff off of her cigarette. She wished Morgan would forgive her, would just talk to her. But, she understood why he wouldn't. He'd been through enough for her…He'd held her as she nearly died in his arms, he carried her coffin and watched them put "her" in the ground. She'd come back, won his trust again, then left again. Abandoned him. She would have understood if none of them had ever spoke to her again, especially if they knew what a lie she was spinning for them. She wasn't trying to hurt anyone. She really wasn't… But playing house with Ian, was that what she really wanted? She exhaled the minty smoke, she supposed it didn't really matter anymore. She could never leave, not even if she wanted too. But, that was the problem in all of this wasn't it? That she didn't want to leave anymore? Her inner profiler, hell even her conscience screamed Stockholm Syndrome, but she had already admitted out loud that she did care for him, on a much deeper level than she'd cared for any other man. Despite his many short comings, Ian had been the longest relationship she'd ever had. She put the cigarette out on the railing, before carrying it back into the house to the bathroom and flushing it down the toilet.

She'd been moping around for twelve weeks, hoping Morgan would change his mind, just call, so she could beg his forgiveness. Again. She knew Ian was becoming irritated with her behavior. She'd been distant from him, hell they hadn't even spoken today. She didn't want to tell him why she was so depressed. They'd been trying hard to make things work here, she didn't want to pressure him, and have him become so agitated they had to leave again.

She sighed as she flopped onto the bed. Taking care of twins was exhausted, on top of dealing with all of the nosy neighbors in this damn subdivision wanting to meet the new babies. She knew they meant well and yes, it was the safest neighborhood they'd looked at. No sex offenders, just a former Irish terrorist… She almost laughed, if people only knew. She really thought Ian was turning over a new leaf. He hadn't even mentioned anything to do with his old life, except these new get togethers with some "old friends" from Dublin. She hadn't met any of them, and he'd said he wanted to keep it that way. These friends had no qualms about stealing the others women, incidentally he'd done it to one or two of theirs years back. She'd been offended asking him if that was the kind of woman he thought she was. He'd been smart to say no, He merely didn't want to have commit murder under his new identity and cause problems for them already. This disturbed her slightly, He would kill to keep her? But she also figured this was not news. He'd killed before just to get her attention… He always had been a jealous man, but before she'd been flattered, now she just rolled her eyes in exasperation.

Next thing she knew, she felt someone crawl onto the bed behind her. Ian. She kept her eyes closed pretending to be asleep. She heard him sigh loudly._ Don't Say anything, don't say anything, don't say anything_… She demanded mentally.

"Emily?" Damn, she needed to work on her Jedi mind control more; she was epically failing at it.

"Ian, what do you want? I'm exhausted, your children never sleep." She grumbled. They had finally begun to get on some sort of schedule but it never seemed like enough sleeping time…

"My children? Why are they always my children when you're annoyed?" He asked sarcastically.

"Because they obviously inherit that skill from you." She said through a clenched jaw. He'd better have a damn good reason for waking her up, besides the witty bantering he was employing.

"Well I have something for you? Do you want it?" He said teasingly, wrapping his arms around her middle. _Really spooning? At 3:00 am? The man is out of his mind._ She thought bitterly.

"Unless its an extra 12 hours of sleep then no." She said sleepily.

"Come on, Love, play along." He said kissing the nape of her neck. She snorted. Wasn't THAT the story of her life, Play- along- Emily. That would have been her native American name she was sure.

"Fine. What is it?" She asked rolling over in his arms.

"Follow me." He said pulling her up off the bed.

"Ughhh.." She groaned. She followed him downstairs, then down into the basement where their walkout patio was. Stumbling down the stairs he put his hands over her eyes.

"Ian I can't see!" She complained.

"That's kind of the point, Darling." He said smugly. "Here, now open your eyes." He removed his hands from her eyes.

Emily gasped. The whole basement was covered in white and purple rose petals, there were Love Spell candles burning all over the place, and the hot tub was already running. The most intriguing part though was the comfy white puffy mattress that was in the middle.

"Ian? What's all this?" She asked turning to face him.

"I feel bad about leaving you with the children so much, so now you get to be pampered all night." He said kissing her hands.

"But what about the kids? It's like 3 am. They'll be up in like 4 hours." She said.

"Taken care of. Aunt Penelope has set her self up in the guest bedroom." He said smiling at her.

"My god, Ian, this is beautiful !" She breathed again, looking around. David Cook was playing in the background. "_**You'll always be a part of me,**____**I'm a part of you indefinitely.**____**Girl don't you know you can't escape me**__**, **__**Ooh darling cause you'll always be my baby**__" _

"Emily you don't understand how much I love you. For all that you do. I just want to show you." He whispered, looking into her eyes. Her eyes watered. She hadn't felt any emotion for him lately so his gesture was so…wanted. She launched herself into his arms, embracing him tightly, crying into his shoulder. He stroked her hair, and led her over to the mattress, laying her down, on her stomach, to give her a massage. Her last thought before she became so into whatever his hands were doing to her body, was how could he not feel love? If this wasn't love what was?

"_**And we'll linger on.**____**Time can't erase a feeling this strong**__**. **__**No way you're never gonna shake me**__**. **__**Ooh darling cause you'll always be my baby…"**_


	33. Footprints

A/N: Hi guys! SOOO sorry about this delay in posting. My grandma had a stroke this week during her knee surgery, so things have been beyond stressful. BIG BIG thanks go out to TheTruthBetween for giving me much needed prompts for this chapter because I was so stuck it was unreal. Everything I wrote seemed so… meh. -_- So the prompt words were: trying, pancakes, clock, toys, cooking, crying, footprints, easy, birds, and figurine. So here it is. Emily's POV again

123456789 6 Months Later

"_**LORD you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me.**__**  
><strong>__**The LORD replied, my precious, precious child, I Love you and I would never leave you! During your times of trial and suffering when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you." **_

–"_**Footprints", Various Authors**_

Emily woke up with a massive headache. The one of twins were crying, they probably needed changed again. She looked over at the clock on her nightstand. The neon blue numbers assaulted her tired eyes: 3:30; this seemed unusual because they had finally begun sleeping through the night. She frowned, turning over in the bed. Ian was gone. She sat up in the bed, rubbing her eyes. She felt like she was in the CIA all over again. No sleep, constantly listening for noises in the night, walking on eggshells, trying to establish a new routine. _Where was he_? She hadn't felt him get up when the one of the twins, Lauren, she guessed, had started to cry. She flung the red sheets off of her, before standing up and walking out of the room, down the hall. She had a feeling it was Lauren, she seemed to have inherited Ian's temper and she let it show whenever the mood struck her, just like him.

Emily paused outside the door that was cracked open slightly and listened. Ian was sitting in the rocking chair with Lauren cradled in his arms. She could hear Ian's Irish brogue softly talking to her. He was reading "Footprints in the Sand" to her. It was the poem that JJ had gotten a pretty wall mounted framed version of to hang on the twin's wall. It had become Emily's favorite. She read it to them every night before she laid them down to sleep. She had always thought that she had turned her back on religion, after all, it had never served her well. But, there was something about the poem that gave her hope. At least, for her children… She had a feeling after all she'd done, she was damned to hell regardless…

She watched from the crack in the door as Ian rocked back and forth, and before she knew it, Lauren had stopped crying. He had really been trying so hard to be a good father and husband lately. She paused, pursing her lips. She'd been referring to him like that of late, and on a deep level it disturbed her. When had she ever become his wife? But, what else was he really? Her boyfriend? That sounded too…casual for the complex relationship that had consumed her new life. Her lover? That sounded too… romantic. While their relationship did contain a romantic element, there were so many other things that compiled into it to solely classify him as her lover. Really all they were missing was a piece of paper…

She leaned her head against the doorjamb, it had been so easy to let herself fall into this situation…all over again. It had been why Sean and Clyde had ended her assignment in Italy. They had seen how easily she had fallen for Ian, besides what was not to love? He was attentive, affectionate, rich, attractive, had a beautiful son, oh and a massive weapons dealing organization… Everything a girl could want right? But, she'd done her job. She'd turned over the information he'd given her, let INTERPOL take him into custody, and watched as life she'd lived for almost a year crumbled in front of her. She closed her eyes, she could still see the worried expression on his face as he looked at her being shoved into the black armored cars. She'd given herself ulcers for months as she'd thought of what horrible thing she'd done. But, she'd saved lives…right? For the greater good…

She peeped through the crack again, Ian had stopped talking, just rocking quietly as little Lauren slept contentedly in his muscular arms. He looked exhausted, like he hadn't been to bed at all. She wiped at her face, she hadn't even noticed as a lone tear had started to fall down the side of her cheek. She took a deep breath to compose herself; she pushed the door open quietly. Ian looked up at her, startled.

"Hi," she whispered; tip toeing over to the cushioned alcove by the window careful not to trip over the billion toys her two newest children had acquired in their first 6 months of life, before sitting down on it, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Have you even gone to bed yet, Ian?" She asked concernedly. He had a look on his face that worried her. He was calm. Too calm, something was bothering him, and he was trying to hide it from her.

He shook his head no, looking back down at Lauren, his fingers gently stroking her white blonde hair.

"Ian, sweetheart, whats wrong? And don't tell me "nothing" you know I can always call your bluff." She reminded him quietly.

"Really, Love, it's nothing." He said firmly. He clearly didn't want to have this discussion right now. But when had he ever let her get away with that?

"Put her to bed, so we can go to bed…" she said putting her hand on his shoulder. He leaned the side of his face against her hand. His face was prickly against the soft skin of her hand. She reached down and took the sleeping baby from is arms, setting her gently down in the crib, careful not to wake baby Landen. Landen was possibly the most angelic baby she'd ever seen, he had the polar opposite temperament of Lauren, quiet and calm hardly ever cried. Ian insisted he was the spitting image of her, dark hair, dark eyes. But she definitely thought he was much cuter a baby than she ever was. She grabbed Ian's hand pulling his tired body with her out of the room and down the hall to theirs.

"Now. Tell me what's wrong." She demanded shutting the door behind them. She was tired too, but putting off whatever was bothering him could only hurt their relationship more. He'd promised her no more lies, no secrets.

"Emily, I don't want to talk about it. End of discussion." He said beginning to undress, unbuttoning his shirt, facing away from her.

"But Ian—"

"What part of "end of discussion" do you not understand?" He snapped. She stood there stunned. He'd seemed so calm in there with the twins, yet he wanted to give her attitude for caring about what was wrong with him? What the hell? "I'll sleep on the couch." He said, grabbing his pillow off of the bed.

She hurried to stand in front of the door blocking his way. She put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Ian what's going on? You stay up all night, then when I ask what's wrong you won't tell me?" She asked a tone of hurt inflicting her voice.

"You're looking for an argument, Love, that I don't want to have right now." He said removing her hand, going to step around her.

"Ian!" She said moving, blocking the doorknob. "You're just going to walk away in the middle of our conversation?" She asked astounded.

"You should be glad I'm going downstairs. Most guys would stay and fight back." He said gently moving her out of his way. Emily stood there stunned, as she listened to his footsteps thudding quietly down the stairway. She walked over to the bed wondering what in the hell she'd done now to make him angry this time. She eventually drifted off into a restless sleep, worrying about Ian. It had been his idea to not keep secrets and now he wanted to act like this?

She woke up to the warm aroma of Vanilla Cinnamon pancakes. Ian was cooking, interesting… He usually only cooked for 2 reasons, either he was trying to apologize for something, or he was in a good mood. She reached over on the nightstand for her phone. The twins would be up soon. She opened a new game of Angry Birds, to kill some time before the kids were all awake. Soon she heard Lauren's unmistakeable fussy sound coming from the baby monitor. She sighed, putting her phone back onto the nightstand. She wasn't looking and accidentally knocked over the ballerina figurine she'd gotten when her mom had been stationed in Ukraine when she was a kid. Swearing profanely, she rubbed her head in frustration. Groaning she got up and picked up the little statue. She'd wanted to be a ballerina so bad when she was a little girl. Maybe Lauren could take dance lessons when she was older… she thought absentmindly, tracing her fingers over the tiny wrought iron ballerina's figure. She sighed setting the ballerina back down and quickly dressed, before going to pick up Lauren and Landen.

She changed their diapers and carried them both skillfully downstairs, so she could fix them some food. She put them in the baby swings, giving Ian a pointed look, before walking past him to the pantry where the baby food was. The twins had developed fairly quickly. They were already crawling, and Landen was almost standing holding himself up. She'd been worried about them being early, but they seemed to be doing well.

"Morning, Love." Ian said, stirring the bowl of pancake batter.

"Morning." She said shortly. She was still annoyed with his behavior last night. She couldn't fathom why he insisted on shutting her out and it was maddening.

"Emily—" He started grabbing her shoulder, turning her to face him.

"Ian don't." She said shrugging his hand off. She didn't want to make nice yet. She did, she wanted everything to be perfect, but why should she be the one to work on their relationship when he wasn't at least willing to be honest with her?

"Emily. Look at me." He said nudging her chin with his hand. She glared at him. She hated when he did that.

"Ian, I can't be the only one who is honest in this relationship!" She said hatefully.

"I know. I'm sorry." He paused. "It's just… I look at Lauren and Landen and I just can't help feeling awful. I hate myself." He said looking into her eyes. She always felt like his blue glacier eyes could see right into her soul. It was unnerving.

"Why? For what?" She asked confused.

"For all of the things that I'll get to experience in their lives that I never got to do with Declan…"

Emily felt her heart break into a million little pieces. She couldn't help but feel like, the reason he'd missed out on so much of Declan's childhood, was because of her….

1234567

A/N 2: If anyone else wants to give prompt ideas I'd love to hear them, and also you guys get to read what you really want to read! They can be random words or an idea or two! If you have prompt ideas leave them in a review or follow me on twitter! My username is kelsey_m320 )


	34. Christening

A/N: Hey everybody! So sorry I've kind of been neglecting this story, just a lot going on right now with my grandma, and the holiday, and work, and blah, just yeah! So anyways here is the next chapter in this never ending story! P.S. does anybody else besides me think of that song "this is the song that never ends" from Lamb Chop when they read this title? I do… total #90skid lol.

"**Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." Acts 2:38**

Ian paced back and forth nervously. It was time for the twins Christening. They'd waited longer than usual because they'd been trying to find a suitable church to perform the ceremony in. Emily had been dead set against it. For some unusual reason she had a severe aversion to Catholic churches of any kind. He'd pointed out that his children were not going to risk eternal damnation because their mother was too stubborn to set foot in a church again. Reluctantly she'd given in, but yet every church they'd visited she found some fault with. It had been a painstakingly long process but eventually they'd found a church they both agreed on. Mostly Irish Catholics which Ian felt to be comforting and Emily seemed to get along well with the Priest, which was surprising because with some of the others she'd been nothing short of hostile.

He looked up as Penelope scurried over to him holding Lauren. Penelope while not being chosen as godmother for the twins was Declan's honorary godmother. Emily had chosen JJ to be the twins Godmother and Agent Rossi to be the twins Godfather. He had left the decision mainly up to her because he wanted her to be as comfortable with the process as possible. He knew her first choice in Godfather hadn't been Rossi. It was Derek Morgan. Yet, Morgan had still not returned any of her calls and refused to talk to the other team members about her or the twins at all. A part of him knew that a part of her secretly hoped he would show up at the ceremony, but as another man, he knew pride would come before reconciliation and Morgan wasn't there yet. He couldn't really blame him, he hated Morgan almost as much as Morgan hated him. The only thing stopping him from ripping Morgan a new asshole was the respect that Morgan had done everything in his power to save Declan.

He straightened his blazer before reaching out to take Lauren from Garcia. Emily was in the adjoining room with JJ, Rossi, Declan and Landen.

"Hurry! The ceremony's about to start!" Garcia said urgently, ushering him towards the door where everyone was waiting. Emily looked like she was going to faint. He knew this was uncomfortable for her, not to mention her mother and father had flown in from Italy the previous morning and her mother had been harping at her ever since she'd arrived. Ian swore thanks to the Lord God above that Emily was nothing like her mother… He'd always heard "mother-in-laws" were the worst, but those people had obviously never met Elizabeth Prentiss. They all walked into the Sanctuary, decorated with beautiful stained glass windows and elaborate crosses. Penelope had done a magnificent job of decorating the place. Despite neither one of them having a whole lot of family, the chapel was at least 2/3 full. Mostly her co-workers, her family, some of their new neighbors, some people from the congregation. He took a deep breath and walked with Emily up to the front of the chapel with Landen and Lauren, JJ and Rossi. Declan had opted to sit with Garcia and Kevin during the ceremony.

The priest began by tracing the sign of the cross on the babies' foreheads, an invisible brand saying that they belonged to Christ, Inviting the parents and godparents to do the same. They stood around the large baptismal font made of elaborately carved stone, while the priest asked them what they wanted for the children-baptism- and asked them to make the traditional Baptismal promises, from both Emily and himself as well as JJ and David.

The twins were anointed twice with Olive Oil, then the priest asked Emily to step forward with Landen and said "I baptize you Landen Jacen Doyle in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." Then he asked Ian to step forward with Lauren, saying "I baptize you Lauren Jaina Doyle in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." The priest went on to explain how the water is sign of cleansing. The water symbolically washes the person being baptized of all sin. It is also a sign of life. Without water nothing can grow. It is a sign of the new spiritual life that the baptized person is entering into.

Finally the candles were lit, and the ceremony ended. Ian had never felt so proud in his life to stand up beside a wonderful woman and their beautiful children being baptized. He couldn't stop smiling as he looked over at Emily who, shockingly, was also smiling, tears shining in her eyes.

Ian was immensely happy for the rest of the afternoon, he didn't even object when Declan asked if he could go stay the night at Garcia's house, or when Emily tried to force feed him cake. She was putting up a good front. He knew she was still heartbroken that Morgan hadn't came to the Christening. Lauren and Landen enjoyed their first little pieces of cake and made a right mess out of it. Ian didn't even dread cleaning it up. He was truly happy for the first time in weeks.

Things between him and Emily were mending, she was encouraging him to spend more time with Declan doing father/son type things like playing soccer and going camping in the backyard. He had tried to show Emily and the twins equal attention, as well as dealing with some other issues.

He knew Emily was wondering where he was going all those nights he was out with friends or went out alone. Truth was, he didn't want her to know, she would be outright pissed. Yes, he was still in contact with certain people from his former life. One being Cameron Miller, arms dealer and former partner in crime. Cameron, like himself had "left" the business in the best interest of his family. He had a wife and 2 daughters. He'd been receiving kidnapping threats for the last 6 months, veiled, vague, threats. Of course he was arrogant enough to disregard them with a snort of derision, daring anyone to try and have a go at it. Secretly, he was worried. So in his time of need he had sought out the one person he had always trusted and would entrust the welfare of his children to. Ian Doyle.

Last night the two girls had gone missing from their bedrooms in the dead of night. Ian had promised to help after his children's christening, but he would need some help… the kind of help only an experienced profiler could give, and that meant involving Emily. She would resist, he was sure of it, but what other choice did he have? He'd promised the return of Cameron's girls unharmed, which he knew was an unrealistic promise, but having almost lost his own son to his own mother, he understood the need of his friend.

He shook his head slightly he wasn't really looking forward to having this conversation with Emily, slightly wishing the party would last forever. She would be absolutely furious that he was still in contact with people from his former line of work, potentially putting their whole family at risk. But he needed her help. And whether she liked it or not, Ian knew, she would give in. Emily Prentiss would never ignore a child in a crisis situation, no matter what their father did or didn't do for a living. How did he know this? She didn't for Declan…


	35. Lauren Returns

A/N: Ahem, so this is me NOT only posting once this week…okay yeah it is, but heyyyy it's a chapter right? So it counts. Also, I am outraged to hear that they are only playing 2 more eps of CM before the Christmas hiatus bullshit? When they're already filming ep 15? Bullshit. So here's the chapter Emily's POV btw.

A/N 2: This is a MUCH MUCH MUCH shorter version than was originally wrote, but my computer shut down unexpectedly…didn't save shit. *sighs*

_Don Corleone_: "_**We have known each other many years, but this is the first time you've come to me for counsel or for help. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your house for a cup of coffee, even though my wife is godmother to your only child. But let's be frank here. You never wanted my friendship. And you feared to be in my debt.**__**"**_

"No! NO way Ian! You—you've really lost your mother FUCKING mind!" Emily yelled from across the bedroom.

"Emily. I have to. He came to me as a friend. His daughters are gone. Missing, from their own beds in the dead of night!" Ian yelled back.

Emily bit her bottom lip looking down at her shoes. Ian had just informed her that an old friend from Ireland had contacted him a few weeks ago. An old friend who just happened to have also been in the "business"; he'd been receiving threats against his family, mainly his twin girls, and 3 days ago they had gone missing from their home in the middle of the night… and now Ian was going to help find them.

Emily squeezed her eyes shut. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. She was beyond furious. He was going to leave her, and his children, to help someone who could potentially draw unwanted attention to their newly reconstructed lives.

"Don't say that. Don't draw me in like that. It's not fair!" She said pointing a finger at him. He knew telling her that the two little girls were missing would tug at her heart strings… they were a little younger than Declan. "Why," She cried, "Why you? He has no one else to turn to? Our kids were just baptized this morning and you're ready to leave already?" She pleaded.

"I—I have to…Cameron came to me; I taught him everything he knows about the business, I was like—like a mentor." Ian said slowly.

"So what? You're like the Irish Godfather? Your daughter's not getting married, but she was just baptized and you're granting people ridiculous favors on the same fucking day?" She yelled. She was so angry she just couldn't understand WHY he needed to do this. What about their family? He'd risked everything to get her and Declan back, they'd had their own children… and now he was ready to leave.

Ian gave a small snort and the corner of his mouth twitched. She watched as he sighed, sitting back down on the bed, rubbing his chin absentmindedly. He gave her a long calculating look, there was always that little sparkle that made his eyes look like aquamarines that any other time would have gave her goose bumps in attraction, but now she felt like they were laser beams into her brain. There was something else he wasn't telling her…

"Emily there's something else I need to tell you. And I'ma gonna tell you now you aren't gonna like it." Ian drawled in that sexy Irish brogue of his. Emily sub-consciously took a step backwards. This wasn't going to be good.

"What?" She whispered hesitantly, turning around to face the window…She almost didn't want to know.

"You're coming with me." Emily sucked in a breath. He was right; she wasn't going to like that at all. Not. At. All. Wait—he didn't even ask her. It was a command. No she definitely didn't like this AT ALL.

"Whh-what?" She whispered again, shaking her head. He was drunk, totally insane, losing his marbles…

"As Lauren Reynolds." Three words that stopped her heart. She turned back around slowly, her head tilted slightly. Her hand was shaking as she nibbled on her fingernail. What the hell could he possibly mean "as Lauren Reynolds?"

"Lauren Reynolds is dead." She said in monotone, for what seemed like the millionth time in her life. After this whole "Ian's Fateful Return" she thought she'd never have to say it again in her lifetime.

"Come again?" Ian said quizzically.

"Lauren Reynolds is dead." She repeated much more firmly, looking at him. There were no tears now. Just plain emotion in emotionless form. Detached, unfeeling look, while inside there was a swirling vortex of entropy.

Ian began to explain the situation in more detail, but it felt like Emily had her ears stuffed with cotton. Garbled noise that didn't make any sense to her. Next thing she knew she was putting stuff into a go bag…Not really comprehending what she was doing. She was in a fog. She couldn't leave her babies, but the thought of those 2 girls, who had nothing to do with their fathers business didn't deserve whatever was happening to them. For the greater good, For the greater good. If they found the little girls, and whoever had taken them, one less bad guy or *guys* in the world. More safe for her children to grow up in this world. She kept repeating that, still not listening to Ian's instructions or briefing on the situation. She just packed, and prepared herself mentally.

Last time she'd been Lauren Reynolds she'd fallen in love, had that love yanked away, oh and she'd "died" in a car accident 2 weeks later… When she'd made it back stateside, she immediately needed therapy so she went to a different town, to a private female psychiatrist. Aside from the love thing, being undercover for that long had taken its toll on her and she wanted to make sure she was up for anything. Again.

She already knew the answer, and so did Ian. That's why he'd volunteered BOTH of them. That sneaky bastard KNEW she would jump on board eventually. She finished packing, setting her bag by the door next to his… He knew….asshole.


End file.
